And Three to Mess Around
by Rogue in Rouge
Summary: Sequel to It Takes Two. Enter two pissed off blonds and a one equally deranged firebird. Oh, and Remy’s A.W.O.L.
1. Things Left Unsaid

Okay, I'm dedicating this fic to my dedicated reviewers: Don Draper's Bitch, CaraM, TheLetter5, thriller, ishandahalf, and Chica De Los Ojos Cafe - who was my most consistent reviewer! Thank you so much for your support!

And a thanks to my interlude reviewers: allyG1990, gabbsta, emotionalcrack, Valnar, ChamberlinofMusic, DancingtilSunset, vinh, WolfFenrisulfr, roguerulez, Lizzieturbo, Tiffany (I would so take fanart!), Wanda W, MissKitty680, and Sassyx22x. (I said I'd reach mid-point in the fic by summer.)

Warning to first-time readers - you have to read both It Takes Two and To Tango to understand this fic. Please do so. (Glad people liked the china action figure, I thought it fit Rogue so well! And then the OMT!)

Now this sequel will be more action packed than the original fic - a lot more, and there will be more subplots going on outside of Rogue & Remy. People noted Remy still hasn't made a love confession. Most of ITT, he's confused about his true feelings for Rogue – and there's no possibility that Rogue wouldn't pick up on the confusion rather that the depth of the feelings. But yes, he's not used to being so vulnerable. Rogue's with him,but somewhat resigned, she didn't give him time to say anything in response to her love confession - she's still insecure about his commitment to her as this chapter will highlight (and the Interlude). It will take time for them to repare the damage they did to each other last fic! (That is realism!)

Also, for those interested, Scott and Jean are going to get more focus in this sequel – I'm actually realizing that as the head X-Men couple, they're not only an effective foil, but are an action couple as well!

Now for those who've been waiting: this chapter will be short, but next one should be a monster.

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And Three to Mess Around

by Rogue in Rouge (cool, my new name!)

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Disclaimer for any of the law-minded readers out there: I do not own these characters, not even in action figure or sticker form. I do have some cool pics of them, but I don't own those either...

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Rogue stood in the center of the room, card in hand.

She didn't bother looking in the closet, where his clothes were missing. She didn't bother looking at the balcony, where the door stood ajar just a deceptively innocent sliver.

She had already looked at the bed, thus the reason the card was tightly clutched in her hand.

Scott started to say something – and it was the knowledge he could say nothing good or positive or possibly helpful that undoubtedly sent her turning on her heel.

Kitty, hovering by the door, managed to snag Rogue's elbow. "Rogue, are you-"

So low that if it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing he wouldn't have heard, "He _promised_," she hissed, "He promised- not without-"

The card crumbled in her hand and she dropped it to the floor as she took off.

Kitty followed her.

Scott snorted. "I don't know why we're all surprised," he said acidly. "This is what Gambit does."

Professor Xavier still scanned the room. "Scott, a flight or fight response is very normal for humans – and to one who is unaccustomed to being offered sincere help, you can scarcely fault him for 'flying' last time," his brow wrinkled. "However, I am quite puzzled by this sudden disappearance."

Wolverine paced the length of the room, trying to distill what his instincts were telling him. Instincts were messy things, throwing a million, tiny signs that his body reacted to without thinking. Explaining them was always bothersome, especially when his instincts failed to result in immediate, explicit action.

"Logan, what is troubling you?"

All he knew was that his skin was itching to follow the energy-charging mutant. Except he couldn't.

"I couldn't pick up his scent in the garage," he said abruptly. He lifted his nose as he stood by the balcony door. "And if he went out this way, I can't tell."

Scott frowned. "What do you mean?"

The air stank of energy discharge, as if Gambit had let go of ten cards all at once. He was used to the singing stink of it, even in the man's room – when he got frustrated or antsy, he tended to burn off some energy literally. But this reek was enough to cover any other new scents. He turned on his heel, tracing his way to the doorway.

His eyes fell on the card Rogue had crumbled to the floor and a claw shot out. Spearing it, he lifted it up. He could only smell Rogue and Remy on it, which was no help. The bed likewise was no help; Remy's scent dripped from every pore, with the underlying, but thankfully fading, scent of Rogue and their activities.

He eyed the card. "What's that card Stripes' always carrying?"

Xavier raised an eyebrow, but responded. "A Queen of Hearts I believe."

Wolverine frowned at the face of the Queen of Diamonds, adorned by the message _See you around, Chere. _

"It's all off," he finally said, releasing the rest of his claws and shredding the card in one swift motion.

"You don't think he left of his own volition?"

Wolverine turned, giving a sharp nod.

"Are you sure?" Scott stepped forward. Dislike or not, Remy was now an X-Man and that put his well-being squarely on the team leader's shoulders.

Wolverine scowled at the boy and Xavier put up a hand. "I'll send out feelers," he said, "and keep an eye on Cerebro."

Scott bit his lip, unconsciously turning to the door. "Rogue – if it's not for certain…"

"We'll wait a few days until we know for certain."

* * *

She closed her eyes.

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_They were just joking around, sparring verbally, trying to re-set the boundaries of friendly, flirtatious banter._

_She challenged him to poker, the irony they'd never even played cards together not escaping her. He played coy._

"_I don't know chérie, y' might be a tad too distractin' f' Remy t' pay attention to de cards…"_

_He'd traced the edge of her shoulder and she reveled in his familiar touch. She batted her eyes._

"_What, yah just gonna run scared? Afraid I might be too much for you?"_

_The undercurrent hit her unaware, swirling and dragging her into the dark, choppy waters of those things unspoken between them. He froze, eyes on her. She tossed her hair, trying to drag her smile back out of the deep._

"_Actually, let's just go out to-"_

_He laid his hand on hers._

"_Chere, it ain't like Remy done dis before."_

_She tensed without thinking, and like always, he proved a master at reading her body._

"_Bella was different, wit' de Guilds and d'arrangement-"_

_**The first (only) girl I eva loved…**_

"_Yah don't gotta explain-"_

_She couldn't bear to hear it._

"_T'ink dat's led to dis whole mess in the first place amoureux."_

_She stopped fighting._

"_If I head out again, f' any reason, I tell you first."_

_The edges of her eyes felt wet as he pulled her gaze up to his. She tried the smile again._

"_Dat gonna be a rule?"_

_His eyes stayed soft, the scarlet deceptively dark._

"_Ah chere, I break rules. Dat's a promise."_

_A promise. Oh this boy could just break her heart._

"_No fancy swear for a t'ief?"_

_He kept his eyes in hers, interlacing their hands to tug her left one up to rest on his heart._

"_Don't need one amoureux. Y' got Remy's word."_

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_**And she'd wondered if that was really all she needed.**_


	2. Carried Away

I'm surprised nobody guessed at the significance of the card. I was worried I made it too obvious, but apparently not, which is good. (It's hard as the writer to sometimes be clear enough, because you already know what everything means.) But hint, there were at least two things wrong about the card.

And now, the action really kicks up a notch!

Song this chapter features our girl Mariah Carey, _Long Ago_.

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Thanks to my reviewers! Randirogue (I'm so honored), CaraM (I agree, I think that was best line!), allyg1990, Wanda W (I really building up grudging comradeship between Wolvy and Remy), Seren McGowan, Doesn't Matter, ChamberlinofMusic, Sassyx22x, ShadowFax999 (you nailed it!), Chica De Los Ojos Café (yeah Scott's getting there – and the cat and mouse game is about to step up a notch), Lizzieturbo, ishandahalf, and roguerulez.

My absolute favorite quote, from Lizzieturbo: "Too many writers have Rogue as the Idiot, who apparently falls for his physique and totally does not get who Remy is as a person, leaving her curled up on her bed biting her fingernails and whining "Like, why won't he tell me he loves me already? I'm, like, totally confused!"" LOL! The mental image!

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_Once upon a time_

_You whispered softly in my ear_

_Loving words and fairytales_

_That I longed to hear_

_-I gave you my body and soul_

_And you took control_

_As you slowly swept me up_

_And carried me away_

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Carried Away

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"**Let him go."**

She wasn't going to follow him this time.

There was no rhyme or reason this time, no place to even start – and she couldn't even fathom stomaching the excuses his psyche might give.

Excuses for the promise – **"my word"**– he broke.

She closed her eyes, leaning on the clothing rack she was supposed to be perusing.

Despite what anyone else might argue, she'd known what she was getting into. She knew Remy – or at least knew him enough. All he'd had was casual, short-term relationships. Oh he wanted her sure, but when the novelty wore off? When he started to get restless? When the sacrifices, the lifestyle demands of a relationship became a bit too much? _(At the very least, she thought she had more time…)_

She knew what he did. He ran – ran from the strings that bound him, 'til they ensnared him again.

Rogue didn't want to be a set of bindings on him. He didn't love her and she didn't want to force him, but –

"**De only **_**femme je veux, c'est toi**_**." ****(only woman I want is you)**

For the first time, she was actually ready to believe him.

She opened her eyes and cursed herself as an idiot.

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You told me pretty lies_

_As I held onto you tight_

_You knew how to get your way_

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The story piped some old love song and she wondered how long she would have to endure 'cheer Rogue up' events. Currently she was shopping with Kitty, Kurt and the wonder couple: Jean and Scott. Just thinking of them made her want to heave – now, of course, for far different reasons than when she'd been so moon-eyed over Scott.

In love. Engaged. A steady relationship.

"Damn you Gambit," she hissed under her breath, her chest hitching.

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Every now and then_

_I drown in thoughts of yesterday_

_And the fools' paradise that you blew away_

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She didn't want to be cheered up. She wanted to crawl under her covers and bury herself from the world – except how can she when he's been there, cajoling her into stripping, flashing that grin of his, wrestling her until he's entangled her and their lips are all she can think about –

All she wanted was not to have to deal with the world for one day and not freaking think about him – in flash fury she whipped through the shopping rack, freezing when she came across a red shirt that she knew would match the shade of his eyes at the moment of an honest laugh.

_Shadows of you keep washing over me_

"Rogue? You find something?" Kitty's voice broke her reverie and she shoved the shirt back.

"No," she said, not daring to look at her roommate.

Damn him…

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Long ago_

_You used to want me_

_Now it's all so far away_

_But you still haunt me_

_And take me back to yesterday_

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Kurt lounged by the front of the store. Kitty had given him a 'scat' motion, meaning she was probably going to try to pin down his sister for some girl talk. He didn't envy her in the least; Rogue had been a walking storm cloud for the past two days – ever since Gambit had disappeared and Rogue had told them to let him go.

Kurt couldn't be much help overall. He crossed his arms, a frown coming to rest on his face. He hadn't liked Remy in the first place, the slick jerk. He'd known it was just a matter of time before the player broke her heart – but Rogue didn't want to hear that.

The worst part was that Rogue had once again cancelled her practices, covering herself from head to toe. Despite his personal feelings towards Gambit, the man had played a considerable role in making Rogue more comfortable with touching. Kurt refused to think about how that had come to pass, but it did make it harder to ungrudgingly hate the guy.

Restless, he looked around from Jean and Scott. Scott had insisted in joining the shopping expedition and Jean had said she needed to look over some inventory for the bridal registry. In Kurt's opinion though, she'd looked more ready for an argument than bridal plans.

And sure enough, making his way to the registry booth, he found them huddled in conversation. Jean had her arms crossed and Scott looked as tense as a high wire act. Unable to resist (Kitty had to be rubbing off on him), he tiptoed to the nearest booth to them. Porting would be too obvious – not they looked aware of their surroundings.

"-need to know Scott," Jean was saying, trying to stay quiet. "I think I have a right."

"Of course I'm not jealous!" He craned his neck to try to get a side-view.

"Well you've been acting like a jealous ex-boyfriend ever since you found out about Rogue and Remy." Kurt was surprised to hear a note of insecurity in her voice – the girl his sister had nicknamed Ms. Perfect.

"He's not a good guy Jean. Even if he did leave because he was forced," What? That was news to Kurt, "Anyone could see that – and I didn't want to see her hurt."

"It's her decision Scott, not yours-" Kurt gritted his teeth. He hated that argument; he'd been on the receiving end of it from Kitty (and Amanda irritatingly enough) at least four times already.

"Look, I was the first to be there for her, okay?" Scott's aggression lessened. "I got to know her and she's been hurt so many times, I just wish I could protect her. I don't feel like-"

"-you want to take Remy's place?" Jean finished dryly, but she seemed calmer.

"No! Wait," Scott's forehead creased in thought, "okay I'm not sure how the grammar works, but I don't want to be her boyfriend or anything."

"You just didn't want him to be it."

"Yes." A sentiment Kurt heartily agreed with.

"Oh Scott-" But a movement had caught Jean's eye and Kurt blinked at the sight of a certain all-too familiar Gothic girl stalking out of the department store, unto the street. One glance at her tensed jaw told him all he needed to know about how the 'girl chat' had gone with Kitty.

He took a step forward, forgetting his surveillance, but it was already too late.

Rogue never stood a chance. The massive hand shot down from the sky and grabbed her up like a rag doll. Fearlessly, Rogue twisted in her prison, the metal belatedly taking on a fiery hue. The Sentinel simply snapped her back, sending her head flying. The glowing dissipated and she lolled in the hand, unconscious.

"Rogue, target acquired," boomed a robotic voice.

Scott swore, rushing out with Jean at his side, his hand going to his communicator. "Emergency at the strip mall – there's a Sentinel!"

Kurt immediately turned to look for Kitty. He wouldn't be able to port Rogue out, not without Kitty managing to slip Rogue from the Sentinel's grip. He ported back, calling her name.

Behind him, he heard the tell-tale roar of the impact of Scott's lasers. Scott never went anywhere without his visor thankfully – and with Jean at his side, they were a very powerful tag-team. He froze for a second, even as he finally spotted Kitty running through clothes racks on her way to the door. Perhaps Jean could open the hand?

He ported to Kitty, just in time to hear the Sentinel speak again.

"Scott Summers; Jean Grey; targets spotted."

Targets? There was no time to consider it. He and Kitty were gone in a flash of smoke and arrived at the battlefield.

"Scott, get out of here!" Jean was holding off a green gel that Kurt knew from video and Scott gave a reluctant nod. Between the shield and the gel, he needed a better position to get to the Sentinel, which still looked way too unscathed.

Kurt tried to pinpoint where he wanted to land. When he was just teleporting himself, it didn't matter. He could easily adjust or even teleport again to be in the right position. But he knew no one else was that comfortable porting – and Kitty had to be in a good place to phase Rogue.

Kitty gripped his arm hard, her eyes as well fixed on Rogue's limp figure.

He bamfed and when they slid back into space, the air was full of smoke, thick and noxious. Kurt couldn't see a thing. For a second, he thought they'd somehow managed to get caught between realities – but he felt the cold metal against his feet. It must've been a smoke bomb.

Kitty cried out and blindly, he reached for her, just barely in time to stop her from falling off the giant's arm, his tail wrapping around the arm for extra balance. The arm lurched and Kurt heard the whirl of gears as metal walls seemed to form out of thin air. The air began to clear and as he helped Kitty up, he saw that the Sentinel's chest had opened. Instead of lasers though, there were cages inside. His blood ran cold.

Another explosion – and when the smoke had cleared enough he saw the ground was scored and Jean now rested unconscious in a green blob.

"Jean!" Scott rushed over.

"Kitty, get Rogue!"

Pale, she nodded and stretched out to Rogue, leaving Kurt to grip her leg. The chest walls got nearer – and down below Kurt saw Scott press his hands against the gel. Kitty had a grip and was trying to pull Rogue all the way out from her precarious stance – the chest closed in – Kurt's eyes flicked down again and Scott's hands refused to come loose from the gel – a double blast of gel pounded in Kurt's ears and the next thing he knew Kitty and Rogue were covered, he tugged on Kitty's leg but his hand was already turning numb and Kitty stared blankly at Rogue without response. The chest walls closed in on them and Kurt had to port out.

He hit the ground hard, coughing up dust and feeling the crack of his disguise watch, followed by the fizzing of his illusion. The rumble of a motorcycle nearby shot his head up and he saw Wolverine jump off the bike with a grim look.

"Not this again," he groaned. He paused for only a second by Kurt, who just shook his head.

"I'm fine," he ignored the lancing pain up his leg, ripping through healing wounds that were still sore, "that thing has everyone else though."

Wolverine gave a sharp nod and raced for the Sentinel. He got to the feet and dug his claws in, beginning to climb. The robot looked down.

"Wolverine, target spotted."

The Sentinel's side boot rockets fired up and trying to hang on so close to the take-off, Wolverine never saw the green gel shot his way. The rockets turned off.

"Targets acquired."

Kurt fisted his hand as he watched the Sentinel grasp the last blob encasing Wolverine. Jets flared again from its feet and it took flight into the sky.

He could do nothing but watch helplessly, cursing his limitations.

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"What on earth is a Sentinel doing on the loose?" Ororo muttered, rubbing her temples. "Trask is still in prison surely."

"That didn't stop the government from loosing Sentinels on Apocalypse," Xavier pointed out. "And that does not mean he could not have still made a deal with someone outside. Or release the blueprints for his invention."

"Oh yeah, I can just imagine," Bobby lifted his hands as if framing a store sign, "Mutant Haters'R'Us." They had all assembled for a briefing in Xavier's room. It was a strange sight considering who exactly was missing: Scott, strong and solid, Jean, calm and steady, Wolverine, gruff but always prepared, Kitty, bubbly but dedicated, Rogue, sarcastic yet determined, and Kurt (in the Infirmary resting his leg), playful and reassuring.

"Think they have a catalogue?" Ray joined in, his voice dropping low. "_And this is fully loaded, encasement equipped flying capture machine ideally suited for X-Men catching._"

"What, you think we would be their main focus?" Jaime asked innocently.

"With Magneto reformed?" Bobby countered. "Hell yeah!"

"I forgot how idiotic you all were," Lance snapped, his form nearly vibrating with anxiety. "Stop wasting time! Some maniac out there has Kitty!"

Bobby scowled at the insult from the Brotherhood member. "You're not even an X-Men-"

"Boys please," Xavier interrupted in his most patient voice, "we all have the same goal."

"-Not to mention you're not her boyfriend." Bobby added slyly. Both sets of eyes turned to Piotr, who stood to the side, strong and steady. Bobby for one thought Kitty had made a step up. At least this time she'd picked a bad guy who was actually reformed. Piotr's calm artistic temperament was way better than Lance's volatile temper. Lance's glower intensified.

"Do ve know who has taken them?"

Storm sighed, looking over at Xavier. "Kurt was quite positive that Kitty was not one of the main targets of the Sentinel. That means that someone out there was targeting Scott, Rogue, Jean and Wolverine."

"And there's only one current bad guy out there who would want those four and has the resources to use a Sentinel to do it," Tabby said for all of them.

Laura unsheathed her claws. "Sinister," she growled.

"I'm afraid I have some evidence to confirm that," Dr. McCoy said, appearing from the doorway with a tired look behind his glasses. "I noticed something strange about Rogue's blood when I took another sample a few days ago, to make sure the drugs were totally out of her system."

"And?" Xavier prompted.

"There was a mildly reactive isotope in her blood; most likely the hallucinogen was simply a diversionary tactic." Alarmed looks were exchanged.

"Reactive?" Lance asked for them all.

"Isotopes are often used for numerous medical procedures," the prompt glazing of eyes, which Hank had become all too-accustomed to in his high school classes, prompted him to cut off his explanation, "–it would only be detectable from a short distance."

"So the Sentinel could've tracked the radioactivity to find her," Xavier concluded.

"Then tracked down the others the hard way," Storm said meditatively. To go to so much trouble…

"The shopping trip must've been a freakin' three-for-one sale." Bobby couldn't resist.

"Can we stop with the shopping metaphor?"

"Can we track her as well?" Xavier ignored the by-play this time.

Hank shook his head. "It only works for very short distances, within a hundred yards. We'd have to know her basic location first."

"Didn't that Cajun guy have a list of places Essex could be?" Jubilee asked.

"Kurt mentioned that – but only Kitty had any contact information." Remy's omission, absence was almost palpably felt. "And Wolverine checked all the locations we knew of," Storm sighed.

"What about Cerebro?" Lance hated waiting. It made him jittery – and tended to do something a bit similar to his surroundings.

"No sign of them yet. I will keep watching."

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"Ah and the lovely Rogue awakens."

Essex.

It had to be a nightmare, but the throbbing of her temples belied the truth. She tensed her muscles and felt straps press against the tension in her arms and legs. She opened her eyes to a nightmare she had actually had once before.

Strapped to Essex's lab table, with the 'good' doctor above her, smirking and flat red eyes sparking in the light.

She swallowed, but didn't say anything.

Essex's eyebrow rose. "What no questions? No quips? Ah," he flicked his finger in the air. "-but you've been in my mind, haven't you? You know exactly what I like to do." His gloved finger traced down her bared skin. She shuddered convulsively.

"I ain't that special," she said, dread rising up in her.

He grinned. "Don't be so modest absorber, you were highly recommended by Mystique."

Rogue froze. Essex just looked amused.

"She even volunteered to help in acquiring you-"

"**Learning more tricks aren't you? We'll have to follow up on that."**

Rogue closed her eyes, feeling like her stomach wanted to shuck its fleshy covering. She'd told herself that voice had been affected by the hallucinogen. It couldn't have been her…

Hadn't that manipulating bitch ruined enough of her life?

"She was very helpful." Essex was still speaking. "She believes you have unrealized potential that I could help with. And, well, you should know how I feel about exploring mutant potential."

She couldn't open her eyes.

"I have something special planned for you, absorber. I'll to perform some tests first, but yes, I have special plans for you and your friends."

"Friends?" she couldn't help the jerk.

"Oh yes, the lovely psychic Jean Grey and her power match mate Scott Summers. Amusing that powerful mutants tend to attract each other – like you and Mr. LeBeau. I was rather displeased he wasn't with you, but with time, I'm sure he'll appear. He never can resist a damsel in distress," Essex said dramatically, "Ah and to open up Wolverine, on a table to match his bones. Ah the thought makes me tingle."

God no.

She wished she could scream.

But when she opened her mouth, all she could hear was his mocking laugh.

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"Have you been able to find them?" Ororo asked.

Xavier looked tired. "Only brief flashes of Rogue's powers, nobody else." He gave Ororo the slightest shake of his head to indicate truly nobody.

"But if you found Rogue, the others have to be there. Where are they?" Lance put his hands on the table and leaned forward challengingly. Lance was channeling his worry into aggression, Ororo reminded herself. Still, she felt a pang of longing for Scott, not that he'd be that much better in this situation.

"I've only gotten flashes," Xavier repeated. "I know the general region she's in, but I haven't been able to lock in on her specific location."

"Can we figure out what Essex owns around there?" Jubilee asked.

"And how would we do that?" Storm barely kept herself from snapping. At least six X-Men were missing, five were most likely under the knife of a scientist without any pesky morals, and time was ticking away.

"Katya knows her vay around computers very well," Piotr said with unmistakable regret.

"What?" Lance blinked.

The girls all looked at each other and nodded. "She's turning into a regular hacker," Tabby said.

"That's irrelevant," Storm said, making a mental note to have a talk with the girl when she returned. She turned back to Xavier, "A basic area should be enough to launch the X-Jet; you could give us a more definite location on the way."

Xavier agreed. "I will keep you updated."

Heading off any arguments before they could start, she picked her team. "Iceman, X-23, Boom-Boom, Magma, and Colossus suit up. Avalanche, I assume you would like to accompany us?" Lance shot a look at Kitty's new boyfriend.

"Of course."

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In Kitty's room, her forgotten cell phone rang unanswered.

The voice mail picked up.

"'s Lapin. Jus' let you know haven't heard from Remy but well, Belladonna been 'round town afta ah trip lookin' like a cat dat got dah cream, _hein_? I t'ink somet'ings up – uh, jus' call me back when y' can, 'k Kitty?"

It went unheard.

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The best plea I've come across from a reviewer wanting an update, from Lizzieturbo:

"It'll be... interesting... to see how I handle the wait time. I might have to take up yoga. Or bird-watching. Or something else to keep me 'zen', because it seems like a form of self-punishment to commit onesself to the hope of an emotional resolution based on the promise of a complete stranger who could decide at any time to up and walk away from this thing forever. So, you know, please don't do that. Please? See how I asked so humbly, so vulnerable, my emotional state resting in your (hopefully) merciful hands? Don't crush me. It'd be so cruel. In other words, keep writing! The pins and needles I'm sitting on are sharp, and I'm hoping to avoid any permanent damage."

LOL!


	3. Live free or

Sorry people, but the card's significance is going to have to wait. And as for the delay, still re-adjusting to being back in America. Never fear, will have plenty of time this summer.

To amakusa and Selene16, considering ITT's end. I think the last ending was simplistic – because I was planning a sequel. I like happy endings (and remember! We were seeing only from Remy's side the chapters before the end – Rogue gets to see Remy make a really tough choice about the Morlocks; he's changed/changing – I'll address this in TTMA). But yes relationships don't just magically get better, they need work – and there are more to Rogue and Remy's issues that they need to deal with. Especially considering Rogue in Evo is lacking something important to the comics – read on to see.

To my reviewers (including newest from ITT!), thanks! E, xOrhidejax (welcome! And I'm glad you came across mine so early), selina (lol!), drumgirl1923, PrincessRhia (totally agree about Kitty!), Rogue14, Wiccamage (ah description, my achilles' heel, trying to work on that), .writer, CaraM (lol!), roguerulez, Rogue181, Sassyx22x, AnimeWhore666DOOM (:)), deGorgeous (I wanted their practice to change, not just be oversexed play), drumgirl1923, allyg1990 (yes, 666 reviews was unnerving, thanks!), and samson28.

And thanks for the fanart Lizzieturbo – and may I say I love your 'Normal' series! I just read it and I'll be reviewing in a bit!

Favorite quotes: Puck'slastlove on the card - "It means rogue, HELP please, I've been lady'sman-napped!" LOL!

Chica De Los Ojos Café – "No one can ever say you don't write very deep, complicated pieces that's for sure." Thanks!

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Live free or...

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Red eyes intently surveyed the stainless steel tables before him, the girl strapped to the table straining but unable to free her hand from its tied position to the person next to her.

He made a quick notation on the computer. The absorber was trying to control her mutation, thwarting his experiments, but her control was still quite weak. It would be broken in no time. And then, well, he had something he was just dying to introduce her to…

He hummed under his breath and spoke. "Scrambler."

The mutant in the shadows jumped, but then nervously edged forward, giving the experiment an uneasy look. Essex ignored that.

"Return the Sentinel to the government with our apologies for the damage sustained. And inform the Air Force we were unable to find their missing agent. Tell them we also haven't picked up any reports of her contacting any of the mutant underground for any kind of physical or mental aid." Il Jong nodded as Essex's lips quirked up. It was ironic how trusting the government could be with 'harmless', innovative scientists. When it was clear his underling didn't move, he answered the man's unspoken question.

"Your services won't be further needed," he dismissed the man. If anything, they got in the way of testing; it was hard to study a mutation when its effects had been negated. Il Jong shuffled his feet.

"Are you sure? The feral and the boy with lasers-"

Essex snorted. "Please, he's idiotically easy to contain. As long as his hands and neck is restrained, he's basically harmless thanks to that simple visor he wears. An elegantly simple solution," he mused to himself. "And as for the feral, magnetic bonds are quite sufficient to cage him."

It was a shame he'd had to also have the redhead's powers scrambled – but with her mentor a strong psychic, he couldn't risk her coming to at any point and contacting the man.

Which reminded him, "After you finish your errands, prep the redhead for Lab 2-6. I want to take some samples from her while the absorber here takes a break – and then after the boyfriend."

Il Jong nodded and giving one last shiver towards the mutants shuddering on the tables beyond the glass, he left.

* * *

o

* * *

Rogue wrapped her arms around herself, as tight as she could given her bindings, as if that would be able to contain the chaos in her mind.

_Why am I here?_

**I have to get outta here!**

_**Odio este lugar! **__**No puedo sentirme bien**__****__._ (I hate this place! I can't feel right.)

Flashes of places, colors – faded, black bars, girls smiling, hair drifting in the wind, the piercing of a needle – _Rogue, Rogue, Rogue, Rogue, Rogue – _her own name, born name meant nothing in this place, these beings crowding her head; only the name of what she had become, who she had to be.

Her mind was torn in a thousand different directions, each psyche crying its woes for only her to hear, her who could do nothing, who couldn't stop as Sinister forced her on one after another, **"interesting," **who had to still stay in one piece, one body – _Rogue, Rogue, Rogue _"Rogue, Rogue, Rogue, Rogue."

"Hey, who's there?"

"Rogue," she said, still trapped and not entirely aware the voice had come from outside her head. The sound of chains scraping the floor jerked her from her daze however.

"Lt. Carol Danvers, USAF." Blonde hair peaked out of the bars out of the left corner of Rogue's eye. Hesitantly she inched to the front of her cell, to get a slanting view.

"AF?" Now distracted, the voices lulled for a moment.

"Air Force," the woman's lips twisted into a brief, joyless smile. Rogue shuffled forward a bit more, trying to see her better. The woman would have been pretty, but her blond hair was dull and tangled, her face showing lines of gauntness and stress. She was the first person Rogue had seen off an examination table. Her stomach twisted.

"What are you doing here?" Rogue hoarsely whispered.

"Same as you. I'm a mutant," again the same sardonic smile flashed with blue eyes glinting in the poor light, "Kinda."

"Oh." Kinda? No one in her head understood that comment – and contemplating it just made the psyches spin out again – she rested her head against the cold metal bars.

"So what does the exalted scientist want with you?" There was a forced cheerfulness in Carol's voice, echoed by the tight lines around her mouth. "I've got flight, invulnerability, and superstrength–" Rogue's eyes fell to her bindings and Carol's joviality waned. "Well, not at the moment. That damn Korean-"

"Scrambler," Rogue muttered, her mind flashing images.

She didn't see Carol's sudden assessing look. But Carol asked instead, "So what's yours?"

"Can take powers, memories, everything." She closed her eyes, feeling herself beginning to lose coherence again. They, people, shadows, sloshed, screamed within her, tangling and clashing, smashing into each other. Into her? She blearily opened them back up to a loud clang to the bars and the sight of Carol's face mashed against them.

"Hey stay with me kid. How can you take powers? Did Scrambler work you over too?"

She shook her head, wishing, wishing… As if Sinister would've been that kind. **Potential. **Unthinkingly, she waved a gloved hand. "Touch."

Carol's face blurred and then got clear again, harsh lines now alight with interest. Eyes like shards of sapphires… "So you could take my powers."

It took a moment for Rogue to understand. For the words to sink past the slithering voices that bound her. She tried to shake her head, but even the thought turned her stomach inside out.

"C'mon kid," voice cajoling, gentle – _not the caramel-coated tones of her boyfriend, tempting her into acquiescence – Remy where are you?_ she thought almost despairingly. "This'll be our best way out." Carol took quick stock of the gloves again. "Can't get to your hands – can you absorb through any skin?"

Rogue shuddered. "Untouchable-" But hadn't that been her past? Remy's smile faded in her mind and suddenly all she could hear was the crying in her head.

"Unbreakable," the word was a wisp – and Rogue couldn't be sure she'd heard the softened sympathetic lilt.

But Carol was intent. "I'll take that as yes." She stuck her hands through the bars, but could only reach to the space right outside Rogue's bars, at the very edge where the two cells met. "C'mon Rogue. Work with me," she said through gritted teeth and Rogue could read the mirror of despair. "We gotta get out of this hellhole."

She couldn't take anymore, she just couldn't – she had to get out. The chorus in her head crescendoed at that thought.

Rogue scooted over, leaning her heavy head against the bars as she tried to struggle with her gloves. Belatedly she realized the restraints were over the gloves. There was no way to take them off.

Carol had realized it before she did. "Have to be the face."

Hands obscenely strong grabbed her face and Rogue couldn't fight the invasion; _No! _she couldn't…

Her gloved hands rose – and then sank in forfeit.

There was too little left of her to scream.

* * *

o

* * *

The com link flashed fire red and Storm pressed it, hoping for good news.

"I'm sending you exact coordinates," Xavier's voice crackled only a little over the radio due to the speed of the jet. "Proceed with all speed."

Storm froze, even as everyone else in the jet noticeably livened up, Avalanche letting loose a 'finally.' Exact coordinates – that could only mean…

With sure movements that belied her trepidation, she switched the com into headset mode. "Who is it?"

There was a pause when Storm could only hear the pounding of her own heart. "Rogue. Her signature – you just need to get there." Storm closed her eyes.

"Understood."

And silently she prayed.

* * *

o

* * *

Carol awoke with a jar, her hands going out to brace herself for a landing that was unnecessary. The chains around her hands creaked and then cracked from the pressure. She blinked. She had her strength again? The girl's mutation – it must've reversed that damn Korean's power. Eagerly, she broke all of her shackles off – it had been far too long since she had felt like herself – before she turned to her right to check on the girl. Except that was the wrong way.

What?

She felt light-headed and space seemed to tilt for a moment – but she shook off the feeling and simply turned to her left. She must've gotten confused.

Carol could see the slump of another body to her left, but she'd fallen to her side and she couldn't see beyond the girl's torso. Hmm, the 'kinda' part of her mutation must've reacted poorly with the girl's mutation. It must have backfired. Still, at least she was back to form.

She opened her mouth to call the girl's name, but found she couldn't remember it. She should've felt bad, but the vertigo teased the edge of her senses again and she had to dismiss it again.

Deciding what to do was simple – how many times had she imagined this situation, sitting on that antiseptic floor, staring at those thick walls that trapped her in? She slammed through them, breaching a hole in the middle and breaking through eight different cells at once – she snapped the chains of the last prisoner. His configuration was different from the others, both neck and wrists chained to opposite sides of the cell. It was obvious it had been deliberate and she had a feeling he'd be able to free the others.

Shouldn't she go back herself? The thought could only give her a small pause. Her fists ached and her blood burned to get to the one who had trapped her in. _Sinister._

"Rogue?" The vertigo hit her unaware and she lost a foot of altitude – that was the other girl's name! Carol turned to the boy gaping at her, his eyes shielded, her face battle-ready.

"You must be one of her friends. She's back down the row," she made a small wave. "You should help the others." She turned to the door, vengeance pressing against her chest, scarcely contained.

"But-"

"I have a scientist to deal with."

"Scott!" a girl's voice sounded from the neighbor cell and she slammed through the door inelegantly. Alarms flared immediately, sounding off.

Her lips curled into a smile, as shades of red lit her way.

* * *

o

* * *

Jean stumbled as the man jerked at her at the exact wrong time. It was hard to move with her legs chained together, her hands handcuffed behind her back. It didn't help that her mind felt in an absolute fog. **You never know what you got 'til it's gone. **Jean hadn't experienced a loss of her powers since their manifestation.

And it felt uncomfortably like being blindfolded while naked.

The silent Asian man jerked her again as they came up to a sealed door. She bumped into the wall, watching as he leaned forward for a retinal scan and then submitted to a needle prick.

A blood test to get through a door?

Unreal.

But then what about this nightmare was real? She hadn't seen hide nor hair of anyone she knew since the Sentinel, hadn't seen anyone really until this man, not knowing who he was so terrifying for someone who usually picked it up even without intruding, had dragged her from her cell.

Scott.

Her heart twisted at the thought of her fiancée – she couldn't even sense if he was alive-

The man's jerk took her off-guard as he pulled her through the open door and she saw her fate for the first time. An examination table.

Oh God.

She backed up without realizing it. The man she was with scowled. "Come on, I don't have all the time in the world." He made her resistance sound like an inconvenience. He reached for her –

The world turned red – and as the air trembled with sirens, she took advantage of the Asian's transformation into a nervous wreck, scanning all around them as if devils were about to pop out from the floor. She slammed her shoulder into his stomach, turning to slam her fisted hands into shaking him off and unto the floor. She would've taken off even as hobbled as she was, but there was nowhere to hide, only another door – the man was slowly getting up from the floor, shaking his head.

There was only one choice – twisting herself into a shape that made her obscenely glad for her fiancée's insistence on all sorts of Danger Room activities, she managed to bring her bound arms from her back to her front. She made her way to the exam tray and grabbed a needle. Jabbing it into his back, she prayed she'd judged him right. He went rigid.

Sirens still whaling, she hissed at him, "Open the door." Trembling, the man took a step towards the door leading back to the corridor, but grabbing his shirt, she dragged him back. There'd be guards racing down that hallway, no doubt. She needed to have her hands free first. "The other one."

They inched their way over, every moment seeming like an eternity. He went through the motions to open the door and lights turned on as they stepped forward. Jean's spine prickled at the sight of large glass canisters, each filled with dimly glowing liquid. The one forefront, something swirled in its depths, and unconsciously her grip on her former captor loosened. When she tore her eyes off it, to despairingly look around for a nonexistent something to break her bonds, it was too late.

He ripped away from her grip, hand immediately going to wrestle the needle from her hand. It was a lost battle, her wrists were still locked together and she couldn't get leverage – she let go and scrambled away. He dropped the needle and crushed it on the floor; obviously he wanted as little to do with the contents as she did – and for the very first time, it crossed her mind he might be a mutant.

Damn.

And she didn't know what his mutation was.

Double damn.

He put his hands up placatingly, keeping his twitching eyes on her. "Look. Just, just calm down. I'll take you back to your cell," she could almost believe him, as if she even wanted to go 'back', "I'll just tell Sinister-" It was the wrong thing to say. Lie to a telepath? She'd fought him, seen his strength.

She backed up more, until she felt cool glass against her back. Swallowing as her guard stepped closer, she felt her way around the canister, then took a deep breath before wedging herself and hoisting her legs unto the top of the attached console. Scrambling into a standing position, she moved back, missing the man's lunge by seconds. He looked worried now and wrung his hands.

"Please just come down. If anything happens to this stuff, oh Essex is going to kill me," the last part was more muttered than anything and Jean tried to figure out how she could turn this to her advantage.

She never had time.

The room shuddered even as the sirens were suddenly backed up warning protocols. Jean nearly slipped off the console, her hands trying to steady against the slick glass and her feet scrabbling over controls. She hit something – the glass started to tilt and she suddenly felt herself start to fall.

The next moments were snapshots – the man's wide dark eyes, the tremendous crack of glass, frigid cold, a stabbing pain in her side, a scream turned to gurgling as her face met the floor, unable to breathe, cutting into her ankles, wrists –

_No! help me…….._

Jean closed her eyes to the eerie pulsating liquid.

* * *

o

* * *

Finding him was ridiculously easy. She could almost feel a tug directing her in his direction. Floating above the floor, she broke through another door with reckless disdain, feeling lasers ping pointlessly off her skin.

"So you broke out," and there he was. Just the sight of him made her want to rip him apart, piece by pale piece. A fleeting thought – had she always been this blood-thirsty? "I can't say I wasn't-" he turned from the surveillance console he'd been watching, then stopped short.

"Surprised Essex?" Her fists tightened. "This has been a long time coming." He cocked her head.

"Rogue?" He raised an eyebrow and she felt the fabric of space around her warp. _That name…_

"Lt. Carol Danvers, USAF," her voice sounded mechanical, an echo, and her head began to throb. What was he doing to her? No, he couldn't touch her – _**touch?**_

He smirked. "Well, this was unexpected. But how interesting."

She involuntarily backed up as he took a step forward, with a start, realizing she'd returned to the ground. She shook her head, firming her stance. "I'm here for your head," she growled.

"But which head is yours?" he mused, with that damn smirk and his eyes glowed.

_No!_

**The name is Rogue!**

And madness broke out.


	4. Emerging Madness

Here we go – and yes Remy will be making an appearance shortly!

To Doesn't Matter: thanks for the language help, I corrected it. I should've known better – I don't really trust the French translations, thanks to the fact I know French reasonably well. And unbreakable was a last minute add-in, glad you liked it.

Thanks to all my reviewers, especially ShadowFax999 who actually quoted Spiderman to me! LOL!

The Blue Adventurer (aw, thanks!), Abeytu, ChamberlinofMusic, Seren McGowan, onyxred, Wiccamage (sorry!), Valnar, CaraM (I agree!), xOrhidejax, aiRo25writes, allyg1990 (totally agree!), ishandahalf, TheLetter5, Chica De Los Ojos Café (yup, yup, yup), drumgirl1923, Sassyx22x, ShioriMillie, Gohanzgirl, and martshi3 (yay! So many reviews!).

* * *

o

o

* * *

E-merging madness

* * *

o

o

* * *

The human body was originally designed to only hold one mind, one set of memories, one unconscious, one person – one personality. To be 'double-minded' means to be in inner conflict and turmoil, unable to be unified inside and a painful place. Even schizophrenics, with their christened mental illness, are only aware of one psyche at a time.

Rogue had no such luxury. Every time she absorbed, it didn't feel like taking someone in - but being invaded from the inside out – she became that person. That was why it was so hard to resist, why her own name became a mantra.

She'd grown casual about it, dismissive outwardly, but she hated the process. The confusion over who she was, what was her, where she ended and the others began – and the shades weren't compact bundles with labels and faces, oh no, but loose miasma of thoughts, feelings, memories, impressions – wisps that snaked in and out of her perceptions.

What was madness but inner chaos?

They were always present, always asserting themselves, more or less subtly. Those that had realized, that knew they were only psyches were more settled, but they were possessive of her body, her life. After all, they no longer had one. And despite the mantra, _they weren't real, they actually remained outside – __**she'd been them, felt their pain, their despair at being trapped, locked away…**_

Carol had no intention of going so easily. This was her in total fullness – and her body – and she'd never let go of anything easily in her life.

But then again, neither had Rogue.

* * *

o

* * *

Essex eyed the out-of-control brunette, who had retaken flight into the air. Her shuddering form collided with one of the main support beams, sending shudders through the floor, and enraged, the girl ripped it from its moorings and tossed it up, through the roof, letting sunlight stream into the room and causing her hair to shimmer red and gold.

Perhaps it hadn't been such a bright idea to break the wall between them.

He could easily 'hear' the maelstrom of her mind, she was sending out enough psychic shockwaves to easily damage a less powerful psychic, and he had no intention of wading through it. Perhaps if she'd been sedated…but given the column she'd just catapulted into space, she most likely had Danvers' invincibility as well.

He began to inch out of the room. He hated to leave behind all this equipment – the last place the X-Men destroyed had been a mere playpen compared to this lab – but he was having trouble locating Scrambler with all of this psychic static and taking her down without him would be troublesome.

Moving was a mistake.

Rogue's head twisted around, her features distorted as her eyes swirled color-wise.

"You." Sinister. _Essex! __**Siniestro! **_**The man who smiles as I suffer…**

The echoes came from other minds, jarringly and Essex tightened his fists.

"You're dead," she-it said coolly in polyphony. Wrenching out another support beam with the ease of picking up a toothpick, she ignored the ominous cracking of the roof and turned toward him.

His hands began to glow.

Troublesome indeed.

* * *

o

* * *

The Great Plains of the American Midwest always reminded Storm dimly of her homeland, the vast savannahs edged by mountains poking into the sky. Here, in this wide plain with nary a town to mar the rolling grasses, she could glimpse the solitude of her youth.

But this, as her home, was tainted by a malevolent presence.

X-23 was the first to spot it, carving it out of the grass. A dug-out concealed under one of the rolling hills. Storm started landing procedures, but no one returned to their seats but Magma.

They clambered out of the jet, coming to a stop at the foot of the exit plank. There they had to stop because they had no game plan. No blueprints, no knowledge of what awaited them – Storm felt the absence of Jean and Wolverine like missing limbs. They needed at least another mobile psychic; she'd have to talk to Xavier about that-

Without warning, the ground pitched in front of them and a beam somersaulted into the air, sending sod flying. Magma automatically ducked, but the rest remained standing, Iceman giving her a pat on the shoulder as she scrambled back up with a flush.

"Looks like someone started the party early," he said instead.

The smell of brimstone, all too familiar, teased Storm's nose. Storm had made it a habit of re-directing wind her way when arriving on a mission, thanks in no small part to Wolverine. She looked up and saw Nightcrawler perched on the tip of the Blackbird, dark against the beginning of twilight, surveying the dugout building below them.

"Nightcrawler, get down here at once!"

Head snapping up, he obeyed, but the surly set of his lips told Storm there would be no apology. Ignoring Avalanche's muttered 'figures', she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Nightcrawler you're-"

He didn't wait for her to finish. "You need all ze help you can get." Storm grit her teeth. This was why she hated leading. She knew what she should do, but he was practically the only member of the top team left. The rest were in that bunker, having God knew what done to them, and she was going into a situation she had no data on. She did need him.

He would need someone to cover him though. Her first choice was Wolverine, but barring him, that did leave – she scanned the small group unsuccessfully. Magma was biting her lip, while Iceman had echoed her crossed arms position. Avalanche was rolling his eyes as well as Boom-Boom if she wasn't mistaken, while Colossus looked on sympathetically.

"Where's 23?" She'd disliked the girl's codename and considering who she was about to face, she couldn't stomach putting the X (_experiment)_, in front of it.

Boom-Boom looked at her with the look patented by teenagers and flipped her hair. "Bet she's half-way to Wolverine already."

Avalanche belatedly looked around, then hunched a little forward. "What is she anyway? His daughter?"

There was a moment of silence before Boom-Boom snickered wildly. Iceman cleared his throat, "Storm, you want to answer that?"

She resisted the urge to rub her temples. "Later. Alright, we stick together – no one goes out on their own, is that understood?" Avalanche and Nightcrawler didn't nod, but both dropped their eyes when she let her eyes film over a little. The effect was gratifying.

The ground rumbled ominously. Iceman glared at Avalanche, whose hands flew up. "Hey that wasn't me!"

They'd wasted too much time – Storm could pick out the ground crumbling where she could guess the bunker's roof was. "Let's go."

Iceman iced a path straight to the main entrance; stealth seemed pointless by now as they came closer and could hear the blaring shrill of alarms. Magma melted the doors and as Iceman cooled the remains, they made their way down the main hall, following the sounds of combat.

The next door fell victim to Colossus and then there was the battle in full glory. Storm gasped at the sight of Rogue in mid-air, hurling a console five times her size as if it was a beach ball at the shadowed figure Storm desperately hoped was Essex. Nightcrawler swore as the figure raised his hands, light spiraling from his hands to blow the console to pieces.

"Rogue?" he called before Storm could stop him. Rogue lost altitude, her arms weaving in the air as if pantomiming some obscure dance. She screamed, an inhuman, echoing sound.

Essex had the absurdity to almost look relieved at the interruption. "So the whole troop appears."

Rogue's spiral abruptly stopped and she shot to the ground in a perfect crouch, cracking the concrete fall to pieces.

"You're not going anywhere," she hissed. Storm swallowed, scanning the room for other X-Men. She saw none.

"Iceman, Boom-Boom, Avalanche," the three straightened at her quiet, intense direction, "you go find Cyclops, Shadowcat and Jean." That girl seriously needed a codename. "Colossus and Magma, occupy Essex," Magma gulped, but Colossus only nodded and she felt almost relieved, "–Nightcrawler, you're with me." He barely nodded, eyes locked on Rogue, who was once again levitating. "Move out."

* * *

o

* * *

Scott had no idea where they were going. All he knew was that Rogue had busted through their prison with strength and flight from someone else and hadn't even recognized them – only the fact that Kitty didn't have access to her mutation kept him from pursuing her. For Kitty's sake, he had to find an exit.

They looked around corners before turning, but they'd only seen one group of white-clad men, who'd looked more like running scared away from the alarms, rather than toward. Scott blearily wondered if Sinister had arranged for any guards in this hideaway.

It was only Kitty's urgent tug that stopped him from walking straight into the man who suddenly appeared in the doorway to their right. The three gaped at each other, the Asian-looking man paling even more beneath the stain of blood running down his forehead and hurriedly stepped back, punching a button by the door. It began to close.

Scott was going to let him go, but Kitty tugged on his arm again. "Scott, that's that Scramble guy!" His hand flew to his visor and the door's controls sparked.

Scrambler backed away, his forehead glistening with new sweat. "No wait! I can take you to your girlfriend," he blurted out.

Scott's insides twirled. "Girlfriend? Jean?" The man nodded vigorously, still backing up – Scott's arm swung out and hauled him up one-handed. "Show me." Swallowing, he slowed his nodding and turned around, making his way past the steel examining table – Scott repressed a shudder at the thought Sinister wanted both him and Jean carved up on one.

As Scrambler stopped at another door, Scott pressed against his back. "Try anything and you fry." He didn't notice Kitty shoot him a disbelieving look.

The man took forever to get the door open and Scott counted every second in his head.

It was meaningless as soon as the door slid out of the way.

"Jean."

Few people realized that he could only see the world in shades of red. The professor and Jean had helped him with his clothes for years – and he'd come to associate the fine distinctions of red with reliable accuracy to actual colors. He didn't need to for Jean's hair, something he'd always secretly loved.

There was also one shade he didn't need to, though this he'd always hated. The crimson black stain of blood.

Jean's blood tainted the fluid she was submerged in, face down.

He had no memory of how he got to her side, only deliberately pacing his breathing, forcing himself to remain calm. He'd prepared for emergencies, but God… "Shadowcat, help me stabilize her!" Kitty rushed to his side, helping him carefully turn her over without moving her neck. He felt for her pulse, but the ricochet of his own was all he could hear. He tilted her head up; she wasn't breathing.

"Scott?" Kitty sounded on the edge of tears, but he wouldn't look at her.

He brushed her hair out of her face, clearing as much of the slime off her. He took a deep breath and covered her mouth, pinching her nose as he breathed for her. Her chest moved, but only from his help. He placed his right carefully between her breasts, intertwining his left hand, and then pumping up, down, up, down. He kept count in his head, everything disappearing but the movement of his hands, the breaths into her, the seconds he listened for her to begin to do so on her own.

"Jean, you can't leave me," he whispered into her neck, feeling his eyesight blur. He returned to the breathing for her.

Finally, finally, her body surged up against him, her mouth boiling over with slime. He _felt _her return. He pressed her back down and she turned to her side, coughing the disgusting stuff out of her lungs. His head felt light, but he didn't give into the urge to hug her and never let go. He shot off her wrist and ankle restraints, then reached for the blood-soaked cloth of her shirt. He gently lifted it up, preparing himself for what he would find – but there was no wound. Nothing. He blinked and felt her flesh to be sure. It was smooth.

His head shot up and his eyes went to find Scrambler – perhaps the blood had been his?

Kitty noticed his gaze. "Sorry," she whispered, carefully holding Jean's hair out of her way, "couldn't stop him."

He nodded, too much relief in his system to be upset. The next moment Jean was in his arms and he let his head sink into her shoulder even as hers sunk into his.

She was alive.

He closed his eyes tightly, feeling his throat close into a knot. "Jean."

He cradled her for an eternity of nothing, when her head stiffened against his neck.

"Rogue!"

* * *

o

* * *

Nightcrawler swore under his breath in German his foster mother would've washed his mouth out for. He couldn't see how he'd helped at all. Every time he or Storm tried to calm Rogue down, reach her, heck even address her, she began those shrieks again, before launching into a cacophony of voices.

It was worst than last time. The fact she'd kept her own body somehow made it worst – there was no distraction of physical distortion to complete the image of her being lost in her own body, her own mind. But though her body was before them, her mind was a reeling mass of people, anger and fury and chaos. And this time there was no Professor X to come to the rescue.

It was only the regained sight of Sinister or the mere sound of his voice that would reunite the psyches in her head, sending her orchestrated fury against her declared enemy.

The others weren't faring much better. Nightcrawler swiveled his head around, keeping his footing on his precarious perch above the action.

Colossus couldn't get very close, not with Magma and Sinister swapping fire like some deranged dodge ball players, Rogue lobbing another chunk of building or equipment every once in a while. Even as he watched, he saw Colossus go down under a section of roof loosened by a miscalculated blast – Storm was trying to ground Rogue – and Magma suddenly let out a cry, her head whipping to the side. Sinister was attacking her mentally.

He cursed again and bamfed far closer.

Throwing the closest piece of debris he could find (there was plenty to choose from), he hurled it at Sinister only a few feet away. Direct hit – and the man turned toward him, eyes and diamond glowing bright red. "You know, zey say when you haf such red eyes, you should take somezing," it was the first thing he could think of and he prided himself on the fact it came out so witty.

Sinister wasn't amused. He stretched out a hand to where Nightcrawler's tail waved teasingly – Nightcrawler felt him slither against his mind – and he bamfed out again.

Slightly disoriented, he wasn't prepared for his former roost to be gone, flattened as so much in the room now – and he crash-landed, his leg protesting with fiery zeal. So much for getting out of the Infirmary anytime soon.

Blearily, he regained his feet, a shock of red catching his eye at the far side of the room. Jean. With considerable relief, he saw Jean, Scott, and Kitty with their searchers, who were surveying the intense devastation with shock.

"Rogue!" It was a chorus and there was no time, no way to warn them – Rogue pitched in the air, spiraling out of control, wailing in swirl of voices crying, shouting, swearing vengeance confusion, anger, loss – it was horrible to watch and Nightcrawler felt like he was going to be sick – she twirled once more and then arrowed at the incoming group, a flash of claws signaling another pairs arrival –

Jean lifted a hand – "Stop." Her hair fanned in psychic furor and Nightcrawler could've sworn – but that was crazy, flames? – and another inhuman cry filled the air.

Rogue went absolutely limp in midair, like a marionette cut of her strings and plummeted down. A stiff breeze cradled her, slowing her descent, before she landed securely in Wolverine's arms. He held her gingerly, strips of pale skin exposed to the world.

Jean swayed as well, Scott holding her upright.

Storm gave a sigh of relief, then blinked. "Wait, where did Sinister go?"

Nightcrawler's tail flicked. Wolverine nodded towards him. "Saw him touch the Elf, then disappear. Didn't see him come back."

Typically it was Iceman who said it.

"He sent him to Hell!"

* * *

o

* * *

The only sound in the Infirmary was the beeping of Rogue's monitor. Kitty sat next to her, pensively watching her face for a sign of awakening.

There was no one else in at the moment, Jean had gotten checked over and given a clean bill of health, despite her near-death experience. Her mutation also seemed completely restored – a fact Kitty was the tiniest bit jealous over, though if drowning was what it took to get it back, she'd be glad to take the all-natural route. Scott was unscathed, Wolverine had only given a grunt when asked if he was alright, and Kurt had been restricted to the Infirmary once again when Mr. McCoy had seen his leg. He'd just escaped to get them some food.

Kitty stared down at her friend's faux peaceful expression, unable to block out the images of Rogue in flight, screaming incomprehensibly. She cleared her throat and talked to fill the void.

"Remy still hasn't come up on Cerebro," she blurted out, hoping to let one worry swallow another. "Storm said there has to be something wrong - considering what happened last time you weren't in contact with each other - Remy should've had to discharge at least some of it by now. I wasn't supposed to know, but you know me, Miss Big Ears."

She let out a nervous giggle and wanted to slap herself. She hated being dismissed as a ditz. Her hand fisted as she felt the swell of emotion press against her throat. She wanted to reach out and lay a hand on Rogue, but she'd been specifically warned not to. Without her mutation, she'd be helpless if Rogue suddenly awoke and reacted violently.

"Rogue - you gotta wake up. Inside – there's too many psyches, the Prof can't find you unless you're conscious. You can fight your way back, I know you can Rogue," she tried to smile. "That's what you are a: fighter."

She wished Remy was there with a visceral ache that made her think she could feel the bare shade of what Rogue must've been feeling. She bit her lip.

She shouldn't tell Rogue, but if she wouldn't fight for herself, maybe she'd fight for him?

"I got in touch with Lapin. He thinks Belladonna's done something to Remy. There's something big coming up in New Orleans, he muttered something about a tribute or something and he's worried Bella's gonna drag Remy into it," she took a breath. Now it was up to Rogue. "You gotta snap out of this Rogue - no one will go on just a suspicion."

She heard a bamf and got up to greet Kurt and the tantalizing smell of food.

She never saw Rogue's eyes snap open.


	5. A Tithe in Time

Remy reappears and Rogue's going to be making some self-revelations soon!

Best review goes to Fanfic Connoisseur - I love your review! I so agree, good fics can be so hard to find! Thanks bff!

"Most people (authors and even romy fans) think it's some kind of love-hate relationship but it's not. It's push and pull and fight and forgive and hide and chase. But when it's all said and done they bang out (one fight at a time) a love that's atleast perfect for the pair of them."

To Wanda W - I was considering how to handle Sinister and that just hit me as perfect!

Thanks to all my reviewers! Don Draper's Bitch (so true), selina, ChamberlinofMusic (I agree), MichieT (i like to parallel canon, unlike certain movies i could mention *sniff*), v son sayian, Sassyx22x (I'm glad you agree!), Abeytu, ishandahalf, ShadowFax999 (spooky), coco pucks, drumgirl1923, allyg1990 (:)), aiRo25writes, Seren McGowan (er...), martshi3, and Chica De Los Ojos Cafe (dun, dun, dun.)

* * *

o

* * *

A Tithe in Time

* * *

o

o

* * *

The first sign of something wrong was the rumble.

Scott was not too alarmed at the sound; Lance had refused to leave just yet, claiming he wanted complete assurance Kitty was going to be alright. Scott figured he was hoping to score some brownie points, but though Kitty had gotten flustered with both Lance and Piotr in the same room, she had insisted that Lance not accompany her into the Medical Wing. Professor Xavier had finally taken Lance aside to discuss the matter with him.

But the rumble didn't stop after a few moments, it continued, intensified. Scott frowned. The problem with living with a lot of mutants was that you became alarmingly used to bizarre occurrences. Still, those accidents could spin out of control very easily.

However, even as Scott deliberated, the building itself began to shake and Scott watched in absolute shock as the floor in front of him surged upward before a form broke through, hurtling upward and seemingly unfazed by the debris littering off her.

He gaped as Rogue shot through the ceiling, scattering plaster and insulation in her wake.

Thinly coated with white powder, Scott reached for the communicator.

"What the hell is going on?"

* * *

o

* * *

Remy couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep - his body felt completely messed up and the link between thinking and moving had broken down. He'd once inhaled an entire canister of laughing gas on a dare - his head had spun and he'd felt _inside _his body, as if his limbs were their own separate organisms. It was completely disorienting, but it had faded after he got some good lungfuls of oxygen.

This didn't end, an endless stream.

He heard a sudden loud noise, his body spun, even though he felt nothing.

"Be more careful!" He breathed, but there was something pressing against his lips, his nose, that didn't let up. Something whispered next to it, but all he felt were blurs. "We have to make sure he stays down until it's time," the words echoed eerily, circling his head. And then - a whisper - "Soon now."

* * *

o

* * *

"So vhat's ze damage?"

"She went through every single floor - every single one," Scott muttered, rubbing his forehead.

Mr. McCoy echoed his motion. "And we just finished the final repairs from Remy's previous blow-up."

"Well at least they're just holes right?" Kitty said weakly, wringing her hands. "I mean, you can just patch 'em up right?"

"Through solid concrete, stone, concrete, roofing - she didn't even pause. And then she just flew off!" Scott made an indistinct motion, still in shock. "How does she even still have access to those powers? Do we even know who she got them from?"

Eyes split between McCoy and Xavier. Mr. McCoy coughed into his large furred fist. "According to the external sensors, she just suddenly awakened."

Xavier sighed. "And unfortunately, she is most likely not in control, considering the other mutation is fully active," he paused, "if it is even just one mutation." Memories of Rogue on a rampage were not too far distant. Everyone still looked to him for answers. "She absorbed at least one person with very strong mental walls," he admitted. "The force required to bypass them could cause damage - I was hoping she would be able to regain consciousness," the fact she always had before, but for once, didn't need to be said. Shaking his head, he turned to the so far silent redhead. "Jean, do you have any light to shed on her mental state?"

She was the last to have mental contact with Rogue. She shook her head, looking away. Scott squeezed her elbow.

"I don't understand," he deflected attention. "She just - woke up?"

Kitty squirmed. "Um, I might be able to ah, shed some light on that." She wrung her hands again as Scott frowned. "I kinda mighta toldheraboutRem yprobablybeingi nLouisiana."

"What?" Scott was echoed by Kurt, but none of the adults seemed overly surprised.

Xavier actually looked somewhat relieved. He steepled his hands. "That would suggest it was Rogue who woke up-" he mused.

"But she flew right through concrete!"

He ignored the interruption. "She must still be confused mentally and then the powers, unless… Still it would explain-" it sounded more like he was talking to himself, but Scott had been living on the edge of anxiety for over two days straight. His patience was shot.

"Explain what?" he gritted out.

Xavier acknowledged his tension and met his gaze levelly. "-why I can't find her on Cerebro."

The team leader took a deep breath and came to a decision. "Well, at least we know where to head. Kitty have you called Lapin again?"

She bit her lip. "He's not answering his phone."

Scott looked around. "Okay, I'll take Wolfsbane, Storm, Wolverine, Colossus and-" he stalled running through candidates. Cannonball or Berserker?

Jean, Kurt and Kitty straightened like sheepdogs hearing a whistle. But he headed them all off. "Nightcrawler, you shouldn't have even been on the last mission. And you're injured - again. Shadowcat, you need to recover your powers-"

"But I'm the one who's been in contact with Lapin!" she protested.

"Both I and Wolverine have met him. And Jean," he breathed. "You almost," he couldn't say the truth, _she had, _"died last mission. And you're still weak from stopping Rogue last time."

Her eyes glittered, a flash of something skittering down his spine, but she nodded and he could breathe again.

"I will be coming," Xavier said decisively. "It will be necessary." No one could argue with that.

"I'll go round up the troops," Wolverine rumbled from his position in the back, leaning against the wall. He hated the talky part of mission-planning. Finally, it was time to do something.

* * *

o

* * *

Remy came to, only slowly. His feet were dragging against the ground - but he was upright. There were low voices, but too far away for him to pick up.

His mouth was dry and when he tried to swallow, it nearly choked him. He broke into a coughing fit and a voice rose - water was shoved against his mouth and he gratefully opened his chapped lips. It spilled over him; he tried to open his eyes, but couldn't - they were pressed shut.

Motion had come to a stop and the voices had become clearer. He could feel something binding his hands in front of him and his mind spun when he automatically tried to figure out what it was and how he could get out of it.

"Belladonna!" The unexpected shout sent him lurching to the side - but he was caught by someone and restrained. It was then that he registered the humidity in the air and distinct musk of swamp.

Damn.

There was an irritated sniff, one he knew too well, and his blindfold was ripped off. His eyes spasmed in pain and he shut them anyway. Jean Luc, he could recognize the voice now, was still trying to talk to Belladonna, but she was ignoring him. When the pain faded, he hesitantly opened his eyes to a scene he had really hoped never to see.

He was standing on a platform, ringed by Assassins in ceremonial armor, directly opposite another platform filled with Thieves, who were talking amongst themselves, also clad in ceremonial armor. He checked the swamp discreetly and was at least relieved that the Grand Dame hadn't shown up yet.

Belladonna stalked in front of him, cutting off his view. "Well, look who's decided to join de _fête_." She jerked his chin up, before wrapping the blind around his mouth. "Welcome home _lover_." She grinned.

Letting go with another jerk, she turned as the water in the lake began to boil over. "An' jus' in time."

Remy checked his bonds - his hands were threaded together palm-to-palm with hair. Hair, an organic object, probably freshly cut, obviously Bella hadn't been taking any chances. He could only guess how many drugs were in his system.

He knew about the Tithe, every Thief was informed as soon as they passed their Tilling. It was a time-honored tradition. The Thieves and Assassins provided Candra with a generous tithe and she in turn blessed their future prosperity. She'd been described as a spirit, but Jean Luc had confided his suspicions that she was actually a mutant, a very powerful one who graced them with protection and longevity in New Orleans in various ways. This Tithe was supposed to be a significant one - Remy was to direct it with Belladonna at his side, uniting the Guilds. When that arrangement had gone up in flames, Remy had really thought he'd never meet the Grand Dame. Obviously Belladonna had decided to not let him forego the pleasure.

Up from the water rose the Grand Dame, Candra, the Benefactress of the Guilds. Despite her entrance, she was completely dry, swathed in deep red dress, edged by black for a high neck and covered shoulders. Her long blonde hair waved with telekinetic power and Remy cursed mentally. That was it, he was officially swearing off blonds. More trouble than they were worth. Her eyes flicked over the crowd before focusing on Belladonna and his trussed up form. Turning, a slit down the front of her dress revealed she was wearing thigh-high red leather boots as well. Remy shifted uncomfortably, making his head spin again.

Marius Boudreaux, speaking from behind him, making him nearly jump, greeted her; Jean Luc echoed his sentiments, though Remy was familiar enough to hear the faint thread of tension. Marius then gave his daughter center stage.

"Please don't tell you're offering him as your tithe," the sneer in Candra's voice and dismissive skim of his body made every male pride iota in Remy's body stand up in protest. "He's handsome, but not worth that much." Remy felt fractionally better. Belladonna smiled and shook her head.

"_Alors pas_, Dame Candra. However, dis t'ief was exiled from New Orleans by joint decision of d'Assassins' an' Thieves' Guild. He broke dis ban by returnin' nearly a month ago. Therefore, as his exile came fro' mah brother's murder, the son of d'Assassin's Patriarch, I claim blood-right."

Candra raised an eyebrow, her voice easily echoing over the waters of the swamp. "I'm sure there's a fascinating story behind this, but was it necessary to declare this here?"

Belladonna lowered her head reverently. "As he is de Thieves' Patriarch's son, I sought your permission first."

"A son for a son," the woman mused, her dress fluttering gently around her ankles. "Blood for blood. That has always been the rule of the Guilds. Why was he not executed before?"

"It wasn't murder!" Lapin broke ranks, stepping forward before being corralled by Henri. Jean Luc however took up the protest.

"De death was an accident, not murder. Besides, de boy challenged _mon fils_ to a duel-"

Belladonna laughed derisively, pacing a line before Remy. "An' his blood be on his own head? What 'bout de others dis _diable _incinerated?" She made another turn. "Mutant scum."

Jean Luc shot an uneasy look towards Candra. "De boy lost control-"

"There's de real reason," Belladonna shot out with venom. "They were afraid o' him. So dey exiled him - but he broke de ban, he defied our courts!" She flexed her fist and in a smooth motion, she had pulled a long dagger that flashed in early evening light. Remy felt his throat constrict, his pulse filling his ears. Bella and her blades. She preferred hand-to-hand, but an Assassin didn't follow their line of work without a favored weapon. Bella liked blades of any kind and the similarity of this one to a sword was hardly coincidental.

He'd taken his eyes off Candra and when she suddenly filled his line of vision, he stiffened. The blonde, with such harsh though elegant features, looked bemused. She used a finger to lift his head, examining his face. Her cold eyes were hard and he couldn't summon any charm.

"Ah, the red-eyed demon, interesting." He could suddenly feel _her_ press into his body, a sensation sinking in through his skin, into his blood, examining him. A violation and he had no defense. "Such a waste. Supposed to bring peace and look at you. Only chaos." Candra released his face and flicked her fingers. "You may proceed," she announced.

And how could the Thieves protest?

The man to his right shoved on his shoulders and gracelessly he dropped to the ground, the wood impacting painfully with his knees. He hissed behind the choking gag.

He'd never expected his end to come like this, like the putting down of an animal. Bella gave her blade one last whirl. He always thought he'd go down in a fight, especially after joining the X-Men. He was shoved down further - someone knocked his hands, arms into a hole so he couldn't touch anything but air. He'd never gotten a chance to be a hero. His neck came to rest against a wooden block and he realized with a sickening lurch Belladonna didn't mean to slit his throat. No, she wanted his head.

He closed his eyes, feeling like a coward, not realizing Candra's perusal had actually burned away the drugs in his system, making him able to think clearly. He never even - what had Rogue thought when he'd simply disappeared?

_J' trés désole, mon-_

He didn't see why the swoosh of the blade stopped.

* * *

o

* * *

The world was muddled for Rogue. She was traveling, _how? _She had somewhere to get to, _where?_ She couldn't think too much, too hard; if she concentrated too much, too hard there were other voices, _of course there were_, asking questions, making commands - she got confused and falter - No! She just had to get there, her body was moving - as long as it moved it was good.

_But why?_

No she wouldn't think.

_**Y' here chérie. **_She knew that voice, it didn't cause panic. And she let herself blink at her landscape. Blink down? It didn't make sense, _but it did. __**De swamp an' de swamp lady, de Grand Dame herself. **_She didn't understand - and she was getting tired of not understanding.

Unfocused eyes surveyed the swamp, the platforms, men and women - two blonds, one hovering (_something inside her intensified as she took in the mutant_) and the other with a blade - faint recognition, but then the form she was above.

Her heart paused. Remy?

She was happy, no angry, no disappointed? _All the way for him?_

The voices, memories, shards threatened to flood again and she shook her head violently, abruptly coming down to earth. She didn't notice the shudder of the earth as she landed.

"Who is this?" Cold, impersonal.

"No one important," dismissive, tauntingly, distantly familiar. She opened blurry eyes to focus on the two blonds. Remy? had lifted his head and gazed upon her with wide eyes, his mouth gagged. _Smart, _something inside her hissed and her temples pounded.

"Let him go." The words left her mouth without processing through her mind. She didn't mind. Her body seemed far more aware of what was going on.

The woman, _femme?_, with the blades moved to speak, but the flier raised a hand. She levitated higher, to look down her nose.

"Outsider, it is not your place to interfere." She flicked her fingers and Rogue's body was catapulted fifty yards. Head over feet, she hurtled into the underbrush, finally colliding into a hardwood. She braced herself, but no pain came - instead a deep anger.

_I am not one to be so easily dismissed. She's a threat._

"A threat to Remy," she agreed aloud, feeling her mind clearing to focus on a new target. She regained her feet, then hovered, before bursting out back onto the scene. The telekinetic had turned her back, returning her attention to the others.

Rogue's leg would've slammed into her back if the woman hadn't raised an arm - and telekinetic force - to stop the motion. Cold eyes glimmered.

"You want to try me little girl?"

Her forehead began to shimmer and Rogue obeyed her instincts, avoiding the psionic blast that followed, a shot of fluorescent pink. How girly, she thought idly.

"I ain't no little girl."

* * *

o

* * *

It just figured the X-Men would show up then.

Lapin was actually the first to spot them, as he was already familiar with the Blackbird and well, he was basically expecting them. Unfortunately, Belladonna saw them next and knew her time was limited. Remy's head was forced back down. "This ends now," she hissed and Remy thought he actually felt the first bite of the cold metal when his hair rose on end. A crackling filled the air and Belladonna bit out a curse as she was electrocuted.

Remy could smell the electricity in the air - it had to be Berzerker. Feeling clear-headed, he carefully pulled himself into a ball, letting the shield spark around him. He forced his hands, painfully, down to his ankles, charging the bonds there. He knew better than to bother searching for any lock-picking or other tools around his body - Assassins knew better than to leave even a slip of paper. He was just glad they'd left him in his coat.

The scene turned to chaos. Marius shouted orders for the Assassins to fend off the Thieves; Belladonna added an order for the X-Men, accusing them of interfering, but Remy knew exactly how that would go down.

Remy sprang to his feet, but kept his head ducked. Unfortunately, Berzerker's shields were as good as cages - they electrocuted anyone coming in contact with them from either the inside or outside. Belladonna met his eyes, but didn't bother another attempt through the sparking around him. Frustrated, Remy nearly missed the low growl behind him. The shield shimmered out, just in time for a large red wolf to jump unto the platform, nimbly avoiding Assassins and setting to work on Remy's bonds. He knelt, letting her sharp teeth slice through the hair. She spat it out quickly and he just knew he was going to get chewed out later about forcing her to get hair struck between her teeth.

Belladonna immediately moved in for a strike; Remy managed to roll both he and Wolfsbane out of the way, though he did lose a strip of leather. Wolfsbane yanked the gag out of his mouth, to around his neck. "Get m' somet'ing I cin charge," he hissed to her, before rolling again as Belladonna lashed out, this time withdrawing a small set of blades. Wolfsbane yipped and jumped back off the platform. Most of the Assassins had left the platform, only Marius and two others remaining, but Belladonna warned them off with a glare.

"He's mine." Remy caught her at the ankle and she went down, leaving him to scramble up, jerking the wood that was to be his chopping block off the platform. Cumbersome, it did absorb her blades quite well.

Wolfsbane returned with something better, depositing a metal cylinder at his feet that was very familiar. He swiped it up, ignoring the wolf drool and the wondering thought of where exactly she'd found it, and telescoped the length. She kept at his back, going half-human, if he judged the changed timber of her voice correctly.

One of the men moaned, "I so neva signed up f' dis."

He saw Colossus, suited up, and Berzerker, crackling menacingly, make their way toward them, wading through a crowd of fighting Assassins and Thieves. He let a grin spread - it was good to be back in action.

* * *

o

* * *

The situation, as quickly as it had gotten out of control, was winding down. The Assassins and Thieves had no problem fighting each other - but who wouldn't give pause when facing a walking metal giant, a werewolf of mythic lore or a guy who got stabbed, grunted when removing the blade, healed before your eyes and then came at you with blades popping out of his knuckles? Pride or no pride, the number of combatants began to go steadily down, either by surrender or fleeing. It was a matter of practicality - and both Assassins and Thieves were nothing if not practical.

Belladonna had to be knocked out by Colossus; nothing short would've stopped her from fighting like a demented hellcat. Marius frowned, but didn't protest, raising in hands in faux innocence.

"Dis really isn't y'affair, X-Men," he pointed out mildly, though his eyes strayed to where Candra and Rogue were going at it. If Candra was defeated, the implications…

"Gambit iz an X-Men," Colossus said solemnly. "He iz our affair, as you say."

Remy patted him on the shoulder, "Nice to hear dat, _mon ami_. T'anks for the save," he nodded to Berzerker who just gave a short nod.

"Owed you one," he said vaguely.

His brow wrinkled, but Remy kept the smile, "Not dat I usually need savin'."

Wolfsbane snorted, having returned to pure human form, and crossed her arms. "Sure ye don't. But we nae totally here for ye."

There was a loud crack and faint tremble in the ground as Candra deflected another of Rogue's hits. Losing patience with this route, Rogue turned to using debris and hurling it in increasing numbers at the telekinetic. The group turned, observing the fight.

"Who did Rogue jus' absorb anyway?" Remy asked curiously.

"Join the club," Berzerker muttered, his hands sparking restlessly.

Staring down another two Assassins, a trio of Thieves made their way to join the group. "An' who 'zactly be dat?" Jean Luc demanded, obviously at the end of a tirade, his eyes on brunette woman tussling with Candra.

Lapin grinned weakly. "Dat, well dat be Remy's _chérie_."

As they watched, Rogue uprooted a tree twenty times her size and used it to bat Candra into the swamp. The trunk impacted with her shield, but tiring from the match, she was still pushed towards the water.

"_Mon Dieu_," Jean Luc muttered. "I have got t' talk t'dat boy 'bout his taste in crazy _femmes_."

"Oi!" Remy protested, overhearing the last comment. Jean Luc raised an eyebrow, accepting a hand up to join them on the platform. Lapin clambered up, before helping Henri up, with a big grin.

"Like Lapin said, she be one heck of a _femme_ _cousin_." The X-Men exchanged worried looks.

Apparently frustrated with Candra's continuing blocking act, Rogue snatched up the biggest thing she could find. As Candra shook off the leaves the tree had shed, the entire Thieves' platform was pitched over her head, causing her to lose even more altitude.

"Would you stop chucking things at me!" Candra finally snapped, retrieving both the tree and platform and flinging them back. Rogue ducked the platform, but caught the tree trunk right in the chest. Remy reflexively stiffened and started moving, but Colossus grabbed his shoulder, shaking his head.

"What-"

Storm finally interceded, the wind rising.

"Rogue, please stop this assault," she urged in a loud voice. Rogue, rising from the landing she'd ploughed in the earth, shaking her head.

Instinctively, Remy reached out with his empathy - and was staggered by the turmoil tainting the very air around her. "_Dieu, _what happened t' her?" He vaulted off the platform, ignoring Colossus and Berzerker's protest. He heard a thud behind him as Colossus followed.

"Gambit, Rogue iz unstable-"

"I cin see dat," he muttered. Rogue retook to the air, ignoring Storm. When Rogue tried to strong-arm by her, the older X-Woman tried to gently rebuff her - but she had to up the wind when Rogue wouldn't simply stop. Wolverine, who'd been babysitting the surrendered Assassins, also tried to talk to her. She didn't appear to hear him.

Candra took advantage of the distraction, appearing back over Belladonna's body, before any X-Men could get in her way. Berzerker, uncertain, fired a bolt at her, but Candra's eyes flashed and she flicked him into the lake, where he shorted out. Wolfsbane was torn, but lunged after him to drag him out.

Remy turned back.

"This is your fault, you little wretch," she shoved her hand into Belladonna's chest, but Marius had made it first. Finely maintained nails pierced his side, sliding all the way in, down to her wrist. A faint telekinetic shield laced her fingers and with disdain, she withdrew her hand clean. "How fatherly of you Boudreaux," she crooned, then rose. "Ah well, blood for blood." Belladonna had awaken and rolled out from under her father. She stared in horror at the blood staining his side.

"No, _mon Pére._" His hand rose as if to touch her, then fell.

Candra had already turned to Jean Luc. "Now, as for the Thieves."

Remy saw what was about to happen - there was no one who could stop her there but - "Rogue, Candra!"

Rogue's head snapped up like a hawk sensing prey. Ignoring Storm and Wolverine, Rogue took off. Candra had her hand wrapped around Jean Luc's throat when Rogue plowed into her with all the force of a tractor trailer; the blonde telekinetic wasn't taken off guard, but the sheer momentum of Rogue sent her hurtling off the platform, actually mussing her hair.

Candra glared at her with genuine distemper. But now that she was back over the water, Storm whipped up a cyclone to distract her.

Remy's feet were moving even before Rogue had completed her swoop. He was already spooling out his empathy as he returned to the platform. She froze as it tickled the corners of his mind - her mind was rough edges, a blur of anger, pain, confusion, a swirl incomparable to anything he'd felt before. A mosaic - he couldn't pick out what was Rogue - and that was when he really became alarmed.

He twirled to lock eyes with her, not daring to touch her, "Rogue, _chere_, listen t' Remy," he cast out his charm, trying to sooth all of her. There was so much, but maybe- "Jus' calm down, remember who y'are." Her eyes flickered and he watched in disbelief as they turned blue. Abruptly he found himself pushed back, a sudden calm descending over the shattered wreck.

"So you must be _Remy_," a voice, lacking the honeyed tones of his lover, spoke out of her mouth. He'd seen her lose control, other psyches pressing forward, but they had also been out-of-control. "You trying to charm me," her head cocked, before a mocking smile tug at her lips, "swamp rat?" Her hand shot out and hauled him up by the collar of his shirt. "I'm hardly so easy." She shoved him away - and promptly screamed. Remy tumbled through the single railing, but managed to be caught by Colossus.

Rogue sunk to her knees, ripping up boards as she fisted her hands. It was then that Remy saw Xavier being wheeled over by a grim Cyclops. Colossus dropped Remy unceremoniously, in order to take Cyclops' place, easily picking up Xavier's wheelchair in order to hoist him up to the platform. Xavier immediately raised his hands to his forehead.

Candra screeched suddenly and Remy's head spun to find the cause of her distress. Candra raced for some shiny speck of red caught up in a twister Storm had drummed up. Remy's first thought was to get to it first - Storm must've thought the same, because the twister turned in her direction. But Candra was faster - she'd almost grabbed it, when a hand-width red beam surged past her and lit the speck in brilliant hues before shattering.

"No!" Like a puppet cut of its strings, she seized up and plummeted into the water below. A minute later, she bobbed to the surface sputtering. "You, you idiot! That was my Gem!" she kept dipping beneath and with a sigh, Storm ended up heaving her up. Candra ascended as a sodden wreck. "My, my, augh," she coughed up water, "everything! I'm mortal now," she spat the word out like poison.

Remy didn't care - he scrabbled back onto the Assassins' platform as Rogue let out another scream, before collapsing. Remy barely managed to slide over in time, catching her. He cradled her even as Storm warned, "Be careful Gambit!"

"What de hell happened?"

Xavier rubbed his temples, giving the battleground a tired look, "That's what we're still trying to figure out."


	6. Playing for Keeps

Thanks to all my patient reviewers!

PandylBas, Angelwingz21, animefan135, Akiko Sakura, Sweetcornbee, Midnight Wolfy (Amen to happy endings!), selina (LOL!), SilverWolf77, Fanfic Connoisseur, MichieT, Regin, RogueNya, ChamberlinofMusic, CaraM (I'm glad! And yeah - it was a packed chapter!), aiRo25, Doesn't Matter, Lizzieturbo (It's okay!), martshi3, Abeytu, drumgirl1923, Wanda W, Ishandahalf (I love inserting humor), ShadowFax999 (thanks!), Allyg1990 (lol!), Folle, Sassyx22x, dreamschemer, edward's blossom (flatterer!).

_Favorite long review_: **Nikari87** - I love "a mixture of longwinded, giddy, and philosophical." Thank for affirming I imbued the sexual side with meaning and kept that as the focus. Rogue and Remy are both damaged - but they can help each other heal, instead of just hurting each other more, it's a struggle. LOL about the ending!

_Favorite review_: **helenxxx** - "hi, this is a wonderful & moving story - you really capture both the feeling of falling in love & lust and the very different feeling of being in love and making it work, thank you." Thanks!

And **quotables: **Chica De Los Ojos Cafe - "I kinda told-her-about-Remy-probably-being-in-Louisiana."-**And I choose 'Things Kitty Did to Put Herself in the Hot Spot' for 200 Alex.**

He was standing on a platform, ringed by Assassins in ceremonial armor, directly opposite another platform filled with Thieves, who were talking amongst themselves, also clad in ceremonial armor. He checked the swamp discreetly and was at least relieved that the Grand Dame hadn't shown up yet.-**Nothing about the situation Remy finds himself is screams, "I'm safe and have nothing to worry about." (LOL!)**

* * *

Sorry for the delay, but this is what happens when someone enters graduate school!

* * *

o

* * *

Playing for Keeps

* * *

o

o

* * *

The Thieves took them in. Jean Luc offered without discussion - with Marius dead and Candra de-powered, the Guilds were in enough turmoil that the apparent nullification of Remy's exile wasn't even marked, especially considering Belladonna was the one who'd brought him into the City in the first place. Besides, Rogue had saved Jean Luc's life and she was in no shape to travel. (No one wanted to risk her 'awakening' while in flight with super strength.)

The Assassins took Candra. Only Xavier dared to ask what would be done with her, but Jean Luc told him firmly it was not his concern. The Assassins had strict traditions concerning death. Despite, or perhaps because of, their trade, they had strict procedures for treating the death of one of their own, not to mention their transfer of power.

Remy, of course, could've cared less about these matters as he sat by Rogue's sickbed, though he was hardly alone…

* * *

"Anyone want to tell Remy how his _chere _went to a C cup?" Remy was trying to contain himself, really he was, but after hearing scattered bits of the story, there was still so much that didn't make sense. Sinister's lab, her break-out and then bizarre break-down - _and no Sinister to hunt, to make him pay, but whose fault really? _He flexed his fingers, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on Rogue's supine form.

"What?" Scott looked aghast, but hurriedly darted his eyes away from Rogue's cleavage. "Gambit this is hardly-"

Xavier leaned forward, interrupting. "Hmmm," his hands steepled. "What other changes do you notice?"

"Professor!"

Remy grasped for professionalism, cold detachment, like Xavier. _So clinical…_

"Remy undoubtedly can notice what we can not." Scott looked apoplectic, but when had that ever stopped Remy?

"Her hair's a bit longer than it used to," - only a week and a half ago, he realized - it seemed like an eternity, "past her shouldas. Her lips fuller, _mais _the angles of her face," by now Remy was musing aloud, categorizing the small features that seemed off, "sharper? An' Rogue's always been fit, but she be more slender - not so muscled." He paused. "An' Remy know better than to say, but she heavier too."

"I should refer with Hank…" Xavier mused, but it was obvious he'd already come to a conclusion.

Logan was the most impatient, arms crossed against the doorway, his most habitual place. He didn't trust the Thieves' any further than he could gut them. "What is it Chuck?"

Xavier sighed, feeling his head begin to bow. "I believe she's integrated the physical characteristics of whoever she absorbed."

"What do ya mean integrated? She's never-" Scott broke off, because obviously never no longer applied. Remy stared at his hands. His hands. If not for him and - _Sinister…_

"It's been over two days. The psyche has remained strong - I'm afraid the absorption was, is permanent."

"Oh God."

Remy bowed his head.

"What do you think happened? To the person-"

Remy's jaw tightened and his gloves began to glow ominously, but he managed to grit out, "Dat not discussed, not in dis room."

Respectfully, they left him there, slouched beside her bed.

* * *

o

* * *

The minutes ticked by. It was enough to make Remy miss the pristine white walls of the X-Men's Infirmary.

Almost.

His eyes roamed the rich linens, furnished by his grateful _familie_, decadent embroidery on the antique canopied King sized bed. Surrounded by the opulence of thieves past, Rogue is a pale waif, tiny in her dormant unnaturally still position on the bed. Like Snow White, cursed by the evil witch, but the Prince unable to wake her. His stomach turned.

He needed a break.

Pushing the door open, he was unsurprised to find Wolverine slouched against the wall opposite, Ororo at his side. He waved his pack of cigarettes and the older man gave a brief nod. Ororo nodded as well, giving the cigarettes a frown, but moving to take his place in the room. The room was an inner sanctum, no windows, no other exits - typically a Thieves' nightmare, but ideal for guarding something or someone.

She touched his sleeve though as she passed, a token of comfort that he couldn't help but savor.

He made his way silently out of the mansion to the old smoking banister, a rule enforced intermittently by _Tante _Mattie's presence, nodding to familiar faces on the way. None stopped him or spoke, merely following him with shadowed eyes.

The cigarette had barely touched his lip when he heard a faint footstep, a tentative step forward. He closed his eyes. It seemed like a lifetime since he'd memorized her step, her perfume - only ever for special occasions - twining in the air. He turned his head, but didn't move. The cigarette dangled from his hand.

"Remy," Belladonna said it easily, with worn familiarity colored by the sound of her homeplace. His homeplace.

"Whatcha doing here?" His eyes ran down her body checking for weapons and she gave a wry smile. With the new uneasy truce between the Guilds, apparently the new Assassin head had free passage.

"Got checked at de door Rems." She stepped out further, to lean against the antique railing, showing him her back. "I ain't heah t' claim y' head."

"Glad to see y' changed your mind," he bit out.

She closed her eyes - and despite everything, he couldn't help but see the lines of fatigue, grief, burden - she's hardly a damsel in distress, but he can't help but see…

**_

* * *

_Little girl, messy face, hair in disarray. The boys hissing insults, shoving her to the ground - small, thin leg lashed out and caught one in the chest, but there are too many.**

**Big blue eyes, so determined, yet glistening with bottled sheen.**

**He can't help but dive in, despite all street rules - don't get involved, all hommes watch de back jus' to know the perfect place t' knife it…**

**Her broad grin, "Merci."**

**And he is lost in her easy acceptance…**

* * *

And he unfurled his empathy. He didn't mean to delve too deep, just bring a little comfort, but he must be rustier than he realized. Even his faint brush burst the dam and she folds.

"I've been angry for so long." She reaches for him and before he realizes what has happened, she is in his arms, streaming tears soaking into his shirt. Yet still her voice is so controlled. "So angry, leaving me. They died protecting me."

_As I would've - _He can't let her go so simply, but he can't hold her too close.

It seemed so long ago. It had been arranged, but they'd hardly been strangers. No one wanted to mess with him, with her - he'd turned to her when Etienne died, Gennie fallen from the Parisian tower, telling secrets in the dark as he lit up the room with the arc of his fingers. And she'd given her body, whispering a better future in his ear. But it wasn't enough, baring just enough of himself, too much -

And then the hatred in her eyes. _**"You ain't nothing but mutant scum."**_

And he'd shut away. He'd broken the rules, _**ain't no one goin' to look out f'yeh boy, see anyt'ing but de diable's eyes,**_ and so of course, he'd paid. Nothing came without strings.

Until the lovely girl with her lovely untouchable skin…

_**"**__**They're beautiful."**_

Belladonna is repugnant to him, but her sorrow mingles with his own. "Good t' get dat out, _hein_?" he fobs off humor. He doesn't hold her too tightly.

"Oh Rems, y' haven't changed," she pulls away with a faint smile and he feels the sudden urge to squash it. "I've clung to that awful night for so long…" but her eyes remained steady and calculating, _distance, _"We could still do it, _tu sais._" She is sober.

"Do what?" He doesn't want to know, but he can't believe she can actually say the words.

"Unite the guilds," she looks at him steadily, eying him up and he feels his stomach turn over. And yet, for a moment, Candra, _**"look at you, meant to bring peace..."**_

"I'm with the X-Men," he says, over-enunciating.

She hmms, doesn't disagree. "T'ink 'bout it Rems?" she traces a line on his chest, invisible bonds, before walking away. _**Once a T'ief…**_

So intimate…

_Dieu, _he needs a cigarette. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly before cupping his hand to spark the light.

It was a flicker of motion in the corner of his eye - and his senses are high alert (being kidnapped from your own 'safe' house and then moved to a city that wanted you dead for years will do that) - his cigarette didn't even have time to hit the ground before the man was against the wall, a dimly glowing staff point at his neck.

Remy scanned the man. "_Qui est-tu?" _He was nondescript, average height, built, dark pants with a muted blue shirt. He put both hands up by his shoulders, giving a tight impression of an easy grin.

"A t'ief 'course." The accent was right, with the Nawlins drawl.

"Don't recognize you." A number of Thieves had slunk into the woods after the Tithe disaster and were just now slinking back, so it was plausible as to why he was creeping around, but Remy had known every Thief by footstep, let alone sight. The Tithe had attracted a few out-of-towners though…

"Bin a long t'ree years LeBeau."

It wasn't the half-sneer that bothered Remy - there were a number of thieves who, though wise enough not to dislike the ruling House, had no lost love for the erstwhile _mutant _exile.

The name was the give-away. Remy had a variety of nicknames, some of the more wiseass thieves even called him Prince, but no one called him by his last name. LeBeau was the household name - none addressed anyone but the Patriarch by it. Even an Assassin would know that.

He let a spiral of energy surge through the staff, narrowing his eyes. "Wrong ansa."

The _snikt _of metal announced Wolverine's arrival and he could practically hear the inquisitive sniff the feral gave. The instant growl confirmed his own suspicion.

"Mystique. Here to see your handiwork?"

Caught out, she shed the disguise like shaking off water, her dark blue skin blending in to the shadows. "I'm not sure as to what you're referring." Her eyes glowed and Remy suppressed the half-smug thought his own were way creepier than her gold.

"Chuck sorted that much out of Rogue's head," Remy's hold automatically tightened at her name. "You're right up there with Sinister on her hit list. Knew there was something off in the tunnel we found her." **Her mind a mess of pain…**

Her eyes glittered. "You don't appreciate the potential she has!"

Molten lava. That was how the anger erupted in him, balling and charging inside him. He pushed the staff deeper as his eyes misted over red. "Potential? You turned her over to Sinister because of her _potential?_"

She sneered at him. "As opposed to you?"

Wolverine stepped closer. "Let me handle this Gambit," he used the name deliberately. "Xavier's asking for you."

He could barely hear him over the roaring of his ears. Mystique started to look a little nervous as the wall behind her began to glow as well.

"Dis'll only take a moment," he gritted out.

"X-Men don't kill Gambit." A long minute _**- **_**You haven't changed **- then the staff returned to its normal silver sheen.

The exertion stole his attention and he missed her tensing, instead catching an acrobatic kick straight to the chest. Forced back, his staff goes wild, neatly catching one of Wolverine's ankles as Mystique flung herself over the railing.

She was gone with a splat and Remy swore creatively, before yelling into the night.

"Dis ain't over!"

* * *

o

* * *

It was a somber meeting in the X-Men's allotted quarters, an expansive double suite with multiple beds. Rahne and Ray slouched on one bed, looking vaguely unsettled, but no one else was sitting. Remy couldn't even stay stationary, pacing the floor despite Ororo's request for him to stand by her. Piotr didn't seem surprised.

"I've made contact with the psyche," Xavier started. "Her name is Carol Danvers. She works for the US Air Force, probably why S.H.I.E.L.D. has been all over Essex's lab since we left it and been trying to contact us. Carol was another of his subjects and she'd been in his hold, well, she wasn't sure how long. Her powers: flight, great strength and invulnerability, were suppressed upon her arrival by Scrambler. Her memories just prior to her absorption are indistinct - I can't be sure how exactly she and Rogue came in contact. It doesn't appear to have been one of Essex's," he couldn't help his hesitation, "experiments, though I did find a few psyches that apparently were."

"So are you going to get rid of them?" Scott demanded, tightly coiled in his strong arm standing stance.

"Scott, what I did after Rogue's first breakdown was extreme. Her mind cannot continually be 'purged' for all intents and purposes," Remy shuddered at the word, making another turn.

"Also, Carol can not simply be 'gotten rid of'. Rogue's body is altering itself to accommodate her powers on a permanent basis. Her mind has done likewise - Rogue is now literally double-minded. When Rogue first awoke, Carol was foremost. Apparently, they were still distinct from each other. However, Essex, as far as I can tell, tore down the wall between them - that is where you all came in," he gestured vaguely to Logan, Ororo and Scott. "Since then, the psyches have either been battling each other or functioning on some kind of jumbled semi-conscious state." The jargon went over most of their heads - Ray gave Rahne's shoulder a squeeze as she paled further. Ororo's eyes flicked over them, but she said nothing. "Actually, Remy I believe you reversed much of Essex's disruption."

"_Quoi_?" Remy froze, trying to work out if that was good news.

"When you tried to empathically soothe Rogue, you managed to gather most of her psyche back together." Remy frowned - sure hadn't seemed like it.

"But dat other _femme _was de one dat knocked Remy away."

Xavier steepled his hands. "It's a bit of a paradox. In one way, Carol is just as dominant as Rogue. In another sense, Rogue is still more fundamentally tied with her body - it's hers by nature. Because of this, she's more tied to her body - and her mind's exhaustion. At this point, that has been working in Carol's favor. When you helped draw Rogue back out from the chaos, Carol was also able to re-group, away from Rogue, and take control as Rogue was exhausted from the chaos. But Rogue's body can not be controlled by Carol indefinitely. Rogue physically can not stop fighting for control…" The discussion of Rogue as two people made Scott antsy and Logan himself even twitched.

"So what do we do?"

"If Rogue could control Carol, perhaps she could be suppressed," Remy's frown deepened, remembering Rogue's reluctance to lock the psyches away. "But that does not seem to be an option, so we must convince Carol to cooperate with Rogue."

"An' 'xactly gonna do dat?" Remy asked dryly, absently rubbing his chest where Rogue - _Carol _had shoved him.

Xavier sighed. "I'm not exactly sure yet. But you may be able to help…"

* * *

o

* * *

She was full-bodied with long flowing blonde hair, full lips and an air of authority. Practically the archetype of his type.

Remy hated her on sight.

With elegant disdain, she stepped through the opening Xavier provided into the bubble shield he'd created for himself and Remy, sealing it up after she was in. Below and around them there was a cacophony of colors, shapes and figures all thrown together. It was beyond chaos and Remy hated the fact he had to wonder how closely it might represent Rogue's regular mental life.

Xavier was talking, but Danvers' eye immediately snagged on him. He couldn't say he was surprised; their last 'meeting' hadn't been very civil.

"Why is he here?" she demanded, cutting Xavier off mid-sentence. "Surely you don't think _he_ can simply charm me into acquiescence?"

"Don' worry. Gambit ain't got any desire t' charm you," he offered with a fake grin. She looked him over with disdain usually used for refuse found on the bottom of a shoe.

"Man-whore," she muttered.

"Bottle-blond bitch," he shot back.

"Wrong blond-wannabe, thief, that'd be your girlfriend gone wrong." Remy's eyes lit up.

"Please-" Xavier started, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted when the space beside Remy rippled. Carol blinked as a transparent form began to crystallize. It took another moment for it to become distinct as copy of Remy, right down to the outfit - until a second later it rippled outwardly, the jacket morphing into a dark T-shirt, followed by sweatpants.

"What the-"

"Crazy, domineering witch," Remy number 2 cut her off. He crossed his arms and the first Remy smirked as the other's clothes shifted again, this time changing color.

Xavier stared, but then hazarded, "You would be the psyche within Rogue?"

"_Oui_," he nodded, not taking his eyes off Carol, who was now frowning heavily. "Not nice to forget t' invite _moi _t'de party."

"Great, two of you," Carol's mouth twisted into a moue of disgust. "As if one of you wasn't enough to turn my stomach."

"More of Remy always be a good t'ing," both Remys chimed. "Besides," the first one continued, "he got just as much a right t'be here as y'-," the second segued "-_mais _y'don't see me tryin' to take over _ma chere_'s body."

Carol's eyes narrowed. "You still have a body," she hissed. "She completely absorbed me. Everything - my powers, my mind, my soul - for all I know this _is _it and there's nothing left out there!" She flung out an arm.

Xavier cleared his throat. "We've contacted S.H.I.E.L.D. They've found your-you." His slip was hardly unnoticed and her eyes slitted.

"My body, you mean. My shell body."

"Whenever Rogue has absorbed-"

"-her victims-" Carol spat.

"-the person has always reawakened after a period of time," Xavier tried to placate.

"Not this time," she said cuttingly. "You don't think I can tell the difference between myself and those - _shades,_" she said heatedly, intentionally gesturing towards the fluid form of Remy, now transitioning through various states of undress. Xavier cocked his head, but the static Remy just shrugged.

"She absorbed me _plus temps_." (a lot of times)

"I have no idea what she sees in you," Carol muttered, turning her eyes away. "I refuse to stay trapped in here," her voice heightened.

"Ms. Danver-"

"Y'ain't got a choice," the Remys said, matching outfits again.

"She took my body-"

"An' y'll take her life?" the stable Remy finished. "Don't work that way. Life ain't fair-_if y'ain't noticed yet_-and y'gotta deal wit' de hand y'dealt-_even if it is 'cuz of dat rat bastard Sinister_-y'can't take it out on Rogue, she better dan dat-_she hates dat y'stuck in hea as much as y'do-_" the two alternated.

"I don't care!"

"Y'gonna have t'start 'cuz you two be roommates now."

"You can't make me! No one can! She took away my life!" She spun around. "Do you hear me, _Rogue?_"

Xavier cut in. "Ms. Danvers, Carol, you can't just take control. You must cooperate with her. This is Rogue's body - she can't just stop possessing indefinitely. It'll destroy her mind."

For one very bitter moment, Remy thought she was going to say good. But she just pressed her lips together, still stubborn and firm.

He sighed loudly. "Look like I gonna have t'get comfortable." He sprawled on the floor, his doppelganger following suit.

Carol was caught off-guard. "What?" The two were wearing the same clothes again.

"Oh, Gambit gonna keep y'company," the other one replied. There was hardly difference now - they looked equally solid, even if not as full as Carol. "An' I be 'bout as _joyeux _'bout it as y' so no complain'."

"What do you mean?" she asked warily.

"Gambit might justa made sure he bein' absorbed by Rogue while we talkin,'" he pulled out a playing deck from his pocket and began to shuffle.

Xavier's eyes widened in realization. "You placed your hand on her chest," he remembered aloud. "When she exhales, your fingers touch her flesh."

Carol looked horrified, then composed herself.

"You're bluffing thief. You wouldn't throw your life away just to annoy me and keep me from controlling Rogue."

Both Remys looked up from their game, mimicking poses as they fingered their cards. "A man will bet it all on love," the first finally said solemnly.

* * *

o

* * *

Logan stoically held the door open as Xavier wheeled himself out, Rogue's pinched face visible over his shoulder. Remy barely waited for him to clear the doorway before he was in, not needing his empathy to imagine how desperately his girlfriend needed comfort at the moment.

He easily insinuated himself against her in the bed, glad that beyond a tremor, she made no move to repel him. Instead, she laid her head against his chest and he stroked her hair. He wasn't sure how long they cuddled.

"How can yah-" it was verbal vomit and he tilted her head to meet his gaze with gloved fingers.

"Ain't not'ing changed _chere,_" he continued, forestalling her protest, "not'ing dat really matters, _hein?_"

Her eyes are limpid, lacking their usual fire and he leans in for a reassuring kiss. Her skin tugs at him viciously and he pulls back a bit.

He's not prepared her choked gasp of breath or the look of dawning horror on her face.

"_Chérie_?"

"I can't turn it off," her voice was tight, thinly veneered over genuine panic. "I can't turn it off!" They stared at each other and then like a popped balloon, she depresses again. "No," she whispered, her eyes wide and disbelieving. She looked like she was about to be sick.

His shock delays his own reaction, but when he regains himself, she's gone, shuttered away - and his reassurance falls on deaf ears. She's curled into a ball and he can not venture beneath her skin.

Not anymore.


	7. The More Things Change

Thanks to my reviewers! (I seem to have lost a few regulars, totally understandable): turq (thanks - but no Sinister extra, just typical Rogue malfunction), UKnoULuvAnna, Innocence is Beautiful (Carol is not being fair, but she kinda went from one hell to another), A Forgotten Fairy. .AKA- Fairy, Seren McGowan, ChamberlinofMusic, CurrentlyIncognito, ColorCoated (no worries!), Allyg1990 (:)), ShadowFax999 (so agree!), courtneykutie, Ishandahalf (absolutely), and Sweetcornbee.

And thanks MizMiTrev or Veni Vidi Vici for your endorsement!!!

http:(double dash)mizmitrev.(dash)2009(dash)10(dash)halloween-and-hold-me-while-i-am-here(dot)html

Two comments for Chica De Los Ojos Café: The comics always made all the women big-busty and Rogue is really not like that in Evo, so I thought it would be interesting to make a little segue for Rogue. Also, I'm definitely going to explore the dynamics between Rogue and Carol - the comics seemed to take them kind-of for granted (Carol just kept trying to take control or nothing); I never have felt the other personalities have been treated even-handedly.

Erm, so yeah, this is kind of an angst interlude, but they are going to have some downtime until more action. There is some French, but basically all cognates. Lyrics: _Hallelujah_ by Jeff Buckley.

* * *

-

The More Things Change…

* * *

-

* * *

-

* * *

She swung herself off the balcony, finding the familiar grips she'd used before. Remy might have thought he was going to introduce her to the pleasures of roof sitting, but it had been her spot long before he'd shadowed the Mansion's doors.

Carefully, she balanced, exerting little force to climb up the brick, letting her toes rest lightly on each grip. She ignored the slight crumbling around her fingers just as she ignored the chill in the air that did not seep beneath her skin.

She got to the lip of the roof and levered herself up, throwing up a knee to scramble up.

It was all for show, her own self-delusion. Her body didn't have to move that way anymore, didn't have to be subject to the bounds of gravity. But she didn't want to think about that.

Scooting back, she curled up and raised her face to the stars, glinting in the faraway heavens, reassuringly inaccessible.

For the first time in weeks, she felt like herself.

_Ha! _Carol laughed scornfully.

An illusion.

She held herself tighter - it didn't matter how tight, because even with all that assimilated strength, she was now invulnerable.

Unbreakable.

Carol was silent at that, but she knew the sentiment resonated. For all the gifts Carol had had, there were still burdens.

It was unreal. She had cursed her skin in the past, cursed and hated and punished it - covered it and ravaged it, but now the paleness was more than melanin-deep. Smooth, unbroken, 'purity' - a mockery of the scars that adorned Remy's skin.

He had lived and bore the signs.

And she?

Rogue would give anything to be able to bleed at that moment. She'd only cut once, a morbid reminder of her own humanity, a pain to ground the chaos then numbness in her mind, but training had always left her bruised and exhausted - pain the only thing she could truly claim as her own, experience alone. And now it was gone.

The fabric of her shirt started to rip and she let go, wishing she could feel more than just the pressure of her fingers on her skin.

She leaned back to observe the stars, relishing the ability to be alone - or as alone as she ever could be now.

No one really got that, least of all Remy. They all tried to lure her out of her room, distract her with movies and food and games, try to smile and remind her of the joy of living, _one I'll never get to experience again…_

She was never alone. She was anti-social because the only way she could even pretend to be alone was outside of her own head.

The last few days were a haze - the last thing she clearly remembered was Essex gloating over her. The rest was a mesh that she simply couldn't sort through - overlapping nightmarish accounts of Essex's experimentation, fragmented emotions of terror and horror and illness and violation and pain and hurt. She barely remembered absorbing Carol - just fingers on her face and being unable to scream. After that, everything was either missing or distorted flashes of faces, places and motion.

Finally she'd awaken in New Orleans, with the Professor at her side, explaining what had happened, that Carol - that Carol was now -

_Time-sharing? _

Carol's voice always came in shades: disdain, boredom, sarcasm, anger, frustration - and she was far more vocal than any of the others. The others faded, drifted, overlaid her psyche - but not Carol.

_Oh but that would mean I actually got some time as the owner._

Carol was always there.

Carol hadn't shared the specifics of what she'd agreed with Xavier, most likely simply to be contrary or exert what little power she had. Somehow, Carol's thoughts and emotions were separate from hers. They bled through, like the rest, but Carol could also shut off from Rogue, separate - a notion that made Rogue sick that she really did have some_one _trapped within her.

One of the few details she did have was from Carol's hissing of _damn Cajun_.

Remy.

Remy had been there, in her head.

She closed her eyes.

He wouldn't be joining her up here this time. Even if she dearly longed for the day he held her head in his lap, soothed all the chaos in her, covered her with his body to block out the rest of the world -

Carol turned away in disgust and Rogue swallowed thickly.

He couldn't do anything now, not with her skin uncontrolled and the sinking knowledge she no longer could trust herself. She couldn't, wouldn't risk have anyone join Carol.

_Oh now you pledge._

It would only be a matter of time.

She had to give him some credit - he hadn't shown any indication of flinching around her, but that'd change. He didn't fear it at the moment, but he'd learn. Besides, he'd had her. He'd gotten past the challenge of her skin, even gotten her love, and now there was no compensation. He would retreat at night to a cold bed - and he couldn't face that for long. He craved touch like others craved caffeine. It would just be sex and it wouldn't mean much, if anything - but it would be him close to someone else in a way she couldn't be. And she couldn't begrudge him that.

Rogue wasn't foolish. She could see the guilt in his eyes, the blame he'd shouldered and his hopes for redemption that included her. But she couldn't keep him out of guilt.

She wished - but maybe love wouldn't even be enough. Not that it mattered.

Carol was quiet and Rogue couldn't help a grim smile.

She must be pitiable indeed if the blond couldn't summon up some derision.

_Please, getting rid of that low-life is a step up._

Rogue rolled her eyes.

* * *

-

* * *

It was the first time he'd left the mansion since being back. Rogue had retreated to her room, making it clear she wanted to be left alone. After having everyone hovering over since she'd woken up, the flight back and her check-out in the Med Lab, he could scarcely blame her.

Blaming himself on the other hand…

He downed the shot, savoring the familiar burn. He'd up the alcohol level, but it'd end his night too quickly. He wanted the low, long slide into being dead drunk tonight.

He tapped the glass on the counter, catching the eye of the bartender, busy at the other end of the bar. He got a distracted nod in return - it wasn't his usual haunt or he'd be more friendly.

He heard the distinct thud of an adamantium weighed-down body next to him, but didn't bother to greet the other mutant.

The bartender approached, smoothly filling a mug with Wolverine's usual, before generously refilling Remy's drink.

"Still drinkin' dat Canadian _pisse_?"

"Better than sipping those runt glasses." Remy cracked a smile.

"What y' callin' a runt?" It was a weak crack, but he couldn't really offer anything stronger. He'd been keeping it together under Cyclops' judging gaze and all those damn whisperings (**Didn't you hear? Sinister totally made Rogue go crazy…As if she had that far to go…Looks like she can't touch anymore - someone's going to get pretty lonely…If he did that to Rogue, what do you think he did to Gambit?…She and Belladonna totally got into a catfight over Gambit, I bet she tried to make him her love slave…How the hell did he get involved with a creep like Sinister in the first place…), **but now his temples throbbed and he just couldn't muster up indolent humor.

He'd tried to retreat to Piotr's room, but he could only stand so many sympathetic looks - which left him with exactly one person who let him take the blame.

He slammed down the refill. Maybe slow wasn't going to work for him tonight after all.

"Decided ta get away from de happy couple?" Jean's brush with death had definitely shook up Scott and the engagement had just halved, leaving the couple knee-deep in wedding preparations.

Wolverine shuddered, though for reasons far different.

**(So feral. **She leaned close in, murmuring, her eyes seeming to flash in the light. **Untamed - and yet you hold yourself back so much. I wonder… **It was her scent though that had thrown him off the most. Something - alien and it made the hackles on his neck go up.**)**

He changed the subject abruptly. "Mind telling me why you were hoggin' the rec room tonight? I had at least four of the small fry complaining to me that the doors were locked - even though that room only locks during security lock-downs."

Remy gave a vague shrug. "Had some surveillance vid t' go over."

There was no video of Rogue getting picked up Sinister's Sentinel, shopping strip had only had one or two security cameras and they'd either been in the wrong position or destroyed in the fight. But there was footage of her getting picked up by a different Sentinel, shown on national television, another time he was to blame. And so he watched that video, on the biggest screen he could find, saw her frozen in green gel, immobilized, helpless as the metal giant took her away - once, twice, twenty, thirty times.

And they'd experimented on her then as well. None of the X-Men talked about that time; Cyclops had only ever once thrown the incident in his face and even that had simply been more about the fact they'd been publicly outed as mutants.

What had they done to her?

What had Sinister-

The thought made him sick to his stomach - and yet he couldn't throw up and assuage it. He could only sit and watch as the she was once again trapped, motionless -

_**And whose fault is that, diable?**_

His drink had been filled - he swallowed this one as well, letting it burn down his throat, his stomach churning. He could feel the tendrils of alcohol starting to have effect, but all too slowly.

He waved to the bartender. "Jus' bring Gambit de bottle, _d'accord_?"

He'd downed another shot before Wolverine spoke. "So that's the grand plan? Drink 'til you can't see straight?"

"Y' got a betta plan, runt?" Remy shot bitterly.

"Drownin' in guilt ain't going to get you anywhere." He snorted when Remy narrowed his eyes. "Ain't gonna feed you that touchy-feely crap; you're guilty as sin Cajun. But sitting here while Rogue's holding her own pity party sure ain't going to help."

"Pity party?" Remy slammed his glass on the counter. "She jus' got some _connasse_ shoved inta her brain t'anks t' dat _monstre _Sinister, woke up wit' no touch, a different body an' new powas an' y' sayin' she havin' a pity party?!" He swore.

"It's a shitload of stuff to handle," Wolverine agreed. "All the more reason for her _boyfriend _to get off his ass and stop trying to get wasted."

Remy scowling, slouched in his seat. "Don't want Remy 'round."

"Since when has that stopped you?"

Remy fiddled with his glass.

"Rogue, she ain't jus' another _femme,_" he muttered.

"If you thought otherwise, I'd've gutted you when you first lay a finger on her. Now, go an' cheer your girl up."

Their eyes met and Remy recognized it was the closest he was ever going to get to tacit approval to be with Rogue.

"_Merci, mon ami._"

Wolverine watched him leave, before finally letting his eyes roll. "'Bout time he had to work for her." And he could get back to his night at his bar without a mopey emo Cajun hanging about.

It was only when the bartender slipped him a bill that he realized Remy hadn't paid his tab.

He scowled.

_Damn Cajun._

* * *

-

_Well baby I've been here before_

_I've seen this room and I've walked this floor_

_I used to live alone before I knew ya_

_I've seen your flag on the marble arch_

_Love is not a victory march_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah_

* * *

He was hoisting himself over the edge of the balcony when he heard her voice. "Got tired of usin' the door?"

Completing the motion, he landed in a crouch, managing to do so in time to see her swing unto the balcony from the side of the mansion.

"Can't help if I love t' make an entrance," he said back, the thought she'd gone up to their spot loosening a knot inside his chest. "An' don't look like y' f' doors right now, either."

She tossed her hair, assessing him with distant eyes. He stepped up to her, she turned and pulling the door open, walked into the room. He followed.

"Ah thought ah told yah ta give meh some time ta myself."

"'ccured to me dat even dough y' had enough hoverin' 'round and pokin' and proddin', weh could use some time alone. Ain't had any for awhile," he spoke casually, but kept his eyes trained on her. She still hadn't turned to face him, so he reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder. She tensed on contact, turning on her heel to keep out of range.

"Ah don't think that's a good idea."

"_Pourquoi_?" She finally turned around, eyes narrowed.

"Don't play dumb down with meh Cajun. It ain't gonna work."

He grabbed her wrist - she tensed and when she resisted his tugs, he stepped up to her. "Who's playin' dumb, _chere_?" Her muscles were flexed, ready to run and he rubbed his thumb against her covered wrist. "Ain't nothin' changed."

Her eyes flashed and she broke away from him, letting herself hover so he had to look up to meet her eyes. She laughed harsh, the crack of a whip. "Nothin'?" she mocked.

"Nothin' important," he insisted, not showing a sign of intimidation and she sank back down to the floor. She couldn't stand to fly; he could feel it hover at the edges of her mind.

"Everything has changed," she murmured, suddenly sounding tired. "And we, Remy, gotta change to, _non_?"

"No," he disagreed, but she'd already turned her back to him.

"It's only a matter of time," she said and he could tell by the cadence of her voice, that she'd thought it before, probably more than once.

"No," he repeated again, starting to feel nauseous, the alcohol coating inside his insides threatening to tumble out. "We can-"

"Beat the odds?" she didn't turn, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

He felt wrong-footed. He never should've had that third shot, let alone the fourth. "Dere's more at touch than-"

She laughed again, but this time it was the sound of breaking. A breaking heart. He could hear the crackling, but to his muddled senses, he couldn't tell whose it was.

_

* * *

Well there was a time when you let me know_

_What's really going on below_

_But now you never show that to me do you?_

_And remember when I moved in you?_

_And the holy dove was moving too_

_And every breath we drew was Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah_

* * *

"Ah know. You showed me that," her head dipped. "Thank you but-"

It was the but.

He'd let her go once, let himself walk out that door - and she'd been the one who came back. She'd come for him - and he'd be damned before he let her give up on them so easily this time.

He whirled her around, catching her off-guard, left hand on her shoulder and stepping into her. She was nose-to-chin with him and he knew that the only reason she didn't shake him off was her fear of hurting him.

Fear of hurting him - the thought almost made him laugh bitterly.

"Say you don't love me," he demanded, staring into her eyes, his grip tight. "Dat's why you want me to go. An' I will," his back teeth ground, but he said it anyway. Never let it be said Gambit didn't know how to gamble. "I'll leave you alone. But I ain't about to leave because y' too afraid ta let me stay."

Her lashes fluttered. Her mouth opened and then closed. He pushed her into his embrace, nose in her hair, and very, very slowly the tension drained for her body and she let him embrace her.

She did not hug him back.

She was too afraid of hurting him - and he laughed inwardly at the irony.

* * *

-

_Well maybe there's a God above_

_But all I've ever learned from love_

_Was how to shoot somebody who'd out drew ya_

_And it's not a cry that you hear at night_

_It's not somebody who's seen in the light_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah_

_

* * *

Tell me you trust me._

I don't know if I can.

_Tell me I can trust myself._

I don't know if you can.

_Tell me to trust in us._

I can't.


	8. CoOpting

Reader insight:

Ah to turq and ShadowFax999: my biggest pet peeve is static problems (ones people just never get over) I hate that! So giving Carol a dynamic role is important to me, as well as Rogue and Remy not running away, but "sucking it up and dealing with it"!

CaraM: "Rogue's fundamental problem: She has no self worth past her ability to touch and be touched." Very poignant. It goes further - she believes she has nothing to offer a relationship beyond touch, though this is also dismissive to Remy as someone to whom that it is the most important thing. She made the same assumption last series and Remy's going to have to deal with it, confronting his own beliefs about it as well.

Thanks to my readers!

For my little 'Eyes and Ears', everyone loved X-23 - I'm glad. She took the most thinking-out to write, but she's fascinating and I'm glad people resonated with her perspective. Thanks, ishandahalf, Chica De Los Ojos Café, reg4444, AiRo25 (tBeast you so much!), Ele Goddess of Elements. To my latest ITT fans, Midnight Wolfy (thanks), Ruroca57 (exactly!), Drumgirl1923, ColorCoated, and ishandahalf. And finally, from the last chapter: MidniteAngelGoth (=)), Chica De Los Ojos Cafe (I know how you feel! I love your comments - spot on with my thoughts!), Sassyx22x (good!), AngeliqueTussaud, S (lol!), Black Metalmark (thank you!), and aiRo25.

Finally, to my longest new reviewer!

Turq: I so agree about Kitty. Piotr is actually pronounced: Pee-O-tur. -pout- Not very pretty sounding, but I firmly believe people from other countries should have their names respected and used as they are. I loved your review, so thoughtful! I love writing in little hints - and connecting to Romy to the larger universe they inhabit. "In this fic I've been able to hear the characters in my head as I read!" That's how I write actually - I get dialogue first and how people talk to central to this. Lol, they definitely both needed bops!

o

This chapter was necessary for plot development, but next chapter will be funner: hint, the title will be Ménage à Trois.

o

* * *

Co-Opting

* * *

o

o

* * *

Kitty was thrilled when Xavier realized one of the first steps to Rogue actually adjusting to Carol's inclusion in her - well, her, was going shopping. As Remy had been the first to realize, her body had changed, melded with Carol's contours.

Rogue wasn't thrilled with the change. None of her tight tops fit anymore and the gauzy over-shirts strained against her new cleavage and additional musculature. Her hips, thankfully, had only gained an inch - though that meant her favorite black tight skirts were too small. Her hair had gained even more curl, not that Rogue intended to let it show. The only measurement that hadn't changed was her foot size - by the time Rogue had figured that out, it was the only thing that stopped her from breaking down.

She'd stared at her face in the mirror for a full hour trying to pick out the minutiae differences. Remy had found her there, staring blackly at the stranger before her, an old picture propped up against the bathroom mirror. He'd come up behind her and gripped her shoulders, crouching to rest his chin on her hair.

"Your eyes, dey d' same," was the only thing he said.

It was the first and last time she cried over what happened. Remy never said a word.

Rogue wanted to resist the changes - she'd thrown a fit the first day when her regular clothes hadn't fit, let alone underclothes. She'd thrown on a sweatshirt and sweatpants to sulk in her room. It was then that Xavier unleashed Kitty with a credit card complete with a max limit of $1,000. Every other girl in the mansion was literally green with envy, except probably Laura, including Jean, whose parents were dragging their feet over paying for a wedding to such an obvious mutant. Ironically, Kitty had to then shoo them all away in order to drag her very reluctant roommate to the mall.

Rogue hated the whole process. She hated having to get re-measured, she hated having to navigate through the crowds, and she especially hated the fact she simply couldn't re-buy her old wardrobe. Beyond the fact styles and fashion had changed some over time, she had a very nosy, persistent busybody to deal with. Well, two actually - Kitty kept trying to slip blue, red and purple items into her selections, at least deep in tone thankfully.

Carol wasn't about to be left out of this process. She insisted on commenting on every single scrap of clothing, both color and stylistically.

Carol didn't like all the dark colors. Carol didn't like the cover-shirts (_gauzy tissue paper _she sniffed.) Carol didn't like the full coverage at all - _**(well yah don't wan' anyone ta join yah, yeah?**_ - that only shut down the complaints for a little while.)

Carol did like yellow, bright, deep yellow. She liked bold primary colors and skinny jeans and bared shoulders and legs. Prim and proper as she may have been in uniform, she had no problem playing up her womanly assets in order to both distract and induce cooperation.

In other words, she liked clothes flashy and totally inappropriate - and she sneered at all Rogue's subdued choices.

To be honest, Rogue's short temper was fraying, not least because she simply wasn't used to such insistence. None of her other psyches were quite that possessive of her body. When they spoke up, on a usual day not the cacophony of losing-control, they usually tended to be more muted or at least reacting more to what was in her head than reality. They fought with each other or her, commenting on what she was thinking about rather than looking at or interacting with outside. For some reason though, Carol seemed to have access to her senses - at one particularly gothic clothing choice, Carol had actually manipulated her arm into throwing it away. (Kitty had started, but when she heard the whispered epithets, she wisely ignored it.)

It also didn't help that every time Carol wanted to get her way, she had no problem pointing out it was Rogue's fault she was stuck in her body in the first place and would never have her body again.

The thought she'd have these arguments for the rest of her life left her nauseous and she skipped dinner that night. (Remy brought her left-overs - and thankfully Carol was bitched out enough that she didn't muster anything but some disdain while he surveyed her new wardrobe and made flirtatious remarks to cheer Rogue up.)

* * *

o

* * *

The weight rested on her hand. It felt heavy, her muscles were tensed, but there was no strain. It was odd, unsettling -

_If they're going to fuss so much, might as well show off. _Carol sounded bored. _Twirl it on your finger or something._

Rogue didn't feel nearly as blasé about lifting one ton weights. It had taken a crane to load the weight into the Danger Room and the fact she could lift it so easily?

The scanner whirred, rotating on its vertical pole, mapping her. Carol knew her own limits, but she'd declared them 'classified' and so the X-Men were left to determine them on their own. Weight was first - Rogue was in no hurry to test her invulnerability or even flight speeds or heights.

Of course, not all agreed with this. A crackling sound whistled by her boot and she tried to stoically ignore it. Her, well, Remy on the other hand, insisted on trying to change her reflexes from flight to fight since she was now impermeable.

And pissing her off with his impatience - he always did push her farther. Carol grimaced as her thoughts wandered. _Let's focus on what you can do, not can't, _she snapped cuttingly. She was already not thrilled at Rogue's clothing choice. (Her old uniform certainly didn't fit, so she was suited up in one of Storm's spare uniform tops and new black bottoms. Carol wanted a splash of yellow down the middle, like Shadowcat's outfit. Rogue wouldn't even consider it.)

Rogue cleared her throat, hefting the weight into her other hand. "So what does the scanna say?"

Beast, bending over portable machine, delicate spectacles juxtaposing to his bulky form, didn't even look up. "Hmmm."

Another crackling sound came from her prone, bored boyfriend. She stomped on the newest card, grounding it into the floor and shooting him a look. He smiled charmingly.

"From what I can tell," Beast finally ventured. "You apparently have some kind of bio-energy force field."

Rogue perked up. "Force field?"

"Bio-energy?" Remy parroted instead, also perking up.

"Ah, force field is no quite correct. It appears to be all internal." He tapped a button and a probe promptly twirled into place and poked her. It didn't hurt, but Rogue rubbed the spot anyway. "It's reinforcing your musculature. The invulnerability appears to be a natural consequence of this bio-energy underlying your physical body. When you use your strength, your muscles tense and the energy builds up in those muscles. If you put down the weight-" Rogue did so and Beast swiveled the screen. "-you can see that the glow around those muscles becomes the same as the rest of your body." Rogue dutifully looked at the screen. Her body pulsed yellow in color.

"Ain't I supposa ta show up red?" she asked.

Remy gracefully slipped to her side and Beast's hands flew over the keyboard. The scanner whirring again, Beast started speaking, "You're thinking of body heat sensors. However, this is more specifically geared towards energy output. Still, if you compared myself," her non-graphic figure shrunk and a more stooped one joined her, "I come out as low red as I'm not exerting myself. Now, Gambit here," another figure joined them, "shows up as high red, with edgings of yellow sparking, due to a heightened charge that extends around his body."

"Is it ahlways like that?" She didn't see Remy try to signal a negation, but then neither did Beast.

"No. When he is in your proximity or in battle, his energy tends to flare like this," Beast mentioned thoughtfully. Rogue straightened, but Remy interrupted by lighting up a card. The on-screen figure's hand immediately went yellow-white. "Ah, and as you can see, when Gambit or Jubilee or someone else who discharges energy prepares to do so, their energy focuses. They are also most likely to be high red all the time. As you do not discharge energy, your energy will most likely stay in this yellow range. When you exert yourself, the energy does intensify, but most likely not beyond a certain threshold." He pushed his glasses up further. "The implications this holds for the ability to fly unfortunately remains merely speculative. If you could-"

Of all of her new powers, Rogue resisted flying the most. Carol didn't challenge her on that though. She had loved to fly.

"Is there anyway to turn it off?" she interrupted.

"Rogue?" the intercom from the control room flipped on, Cyclops' voice filtering her down.

_Yay, more gawkers._

* * *

o

She observed them from the control booth. Quite a pair, the two of them. Red and green, charming and offensive, external and internal, power giver and power taker, oversexed and untouched. He came to her side and she could feel their powers reach for each other, brush up against each other. So much power - she could almost taste it…

o

* * *

She ignored the interruption. "Well?"

Beast cocked his head, clearly thinking the idea over. "Based on the data I've collected so far, I would have to say no. The flight appears to be an ability enabled by the bio-energy field, however the rest is all imbued into the physical body, much like Gambit's eyes or Wolverine's advanced healing."

Rogue swallowed and upped her chin. "If it's a bio-field, is it possible that it could cancel out mah absorption?"

Beast met her eyes slowly. "As far as I can tell-"

"Yeah or no, Mistah McCoy?"

"Rogue, I'm sorry."

* * *

o

Jean shook her head, her thoughts suddenly foggy. She watched as Remy reached to squeeze Rogue's arm. She shook him off and stalked out of the room.

Jean rubbed her temples, trying to remember what she'd been thinking. She couldn't quite recall - it had to stress, tension. As a telepath, self-control, especially control of her mind was crucial, imperative. Forgetting things, not being able to remember (like why Logan was avoiding her), her professors complaining about distraction - it had to be stress. Anything else…

"Jean, you okay?" It was Scott, holding her arm. She slipped out of his grasp, pasting a smile on her face.

Unthinkable...

"I'm fine." It came out sharp and she left the control room.

She didn't see Scott's concerned gaze behind her or Rogue, closely followed by Remy, coming up the stairs.

She didn't hear Scott shrug off the others' looks or him say awkwardly, "She's under a lot of pressure, you know, with the wedding."

She certainly didn't hear Remy's retort, "Remember what dat's like" or see Rogue elbow him in the side.

* * *

o

* * *

Gambit winced, shifting the ice pack he was holding against his shoulder. "All Remy say was dat he like de girls," he made a motion that made it clear he was referring to certain parts of the female anatomy. "she feelin' insecure, _non_? So what so wrong?"

Across the table, Scott and Bobby exchanged glances, before turning back to the man nursing a head wound left by a thrown shoe.

"You know nothing about women," said Scott, feeling rather smug about being able to actually say that to Gambit. It lasted a brief moment before Gambit's smirking mouth opened and Scott amended it himself. "Well, at least, nothing about seriously dating a girl." That got him a shrug. "Girls never want to feel like if they change something, a guy likes her better."

"But dey always complainin' 'bout-" Scott realized Remy had probably been exposed to the Manor girls' pastime of dissecting themselves to figure out how to attract a guy.

"Believe me, they don't want any confirmation." Scott had learned that one when he was thirteen and innocently commented Susan Farez should cut her hair, it'd look better.

Gambit changed tactics. "But I liked 'er smaller jus' fine."

"Really?" Bobby piped up. Both Gambit and Scott shot him severe looks.

Scott cleared his throat. "But she still feels her old body was, well, the real body."

Silence. There were bigger issues there of course; Scott knew that Rogue would have to accept her new body and Gambit obviously did as well - it wasn't even worth saying. "So what d' I say?"

"No idea," Scott didn't have that much insight into the female mind. Sometimes it seemed to him there were only guidelines on what not to do, which of course you only learned once you did it. "But there's a fine line between acceptance and preference," he said wisely.

Remy threw up his hands. "Boobs are boobs-"

"Do you have to be so crude?" Scott hissed, flushing. It was bad enough they were discussing this about Rogue…

Gambit snorted. "Dat ain't crude. Y'guys so uptight, don't anybody 'round here eva talk 'bout scoring or anyt'in'?"

In Scott's defense, he hadn't been having the best day or even week. Jean was acting strange, but kept insisting she felt fine - his wedding was coming up (and man, he hadn't really planned on actually marrying until done with at least half of college) and he couldn't even think about it, because he had a telepathic girlfriend for goodness' sake!

Scoring? He started out calm but… "No, we don't talk about scoring, because if you even cared to notice, we're surrounded by females, including one who's a telepath, and people with super senses and younger students who need good examples and the only guys who are even around my age are Kurt, who's devout Catholic and covered in blue fur that I really don't want to consider the implications of, and Peter, who can't even hold Kitty's hand without blushing, or Brotherhood, which we're hardly on speaking terms with - SO NO I-" he suddenly realized he had no idea what he was supposed to be talking about, lowered his tone and finished lamely, "just no."

Gambit stared at him for a long moment. "Y'need t' get laid." But before Scott could balloon up in frustrated fury that once again Gambit showed no signs of actual comprehension or even listening, Gambit shook his had sympathetically. "_Mais _wit' yah _chere _all busy wit' weddin' plans, chances be slim. So de bar it is!"

Somehow, despite convoluted protests (though Scott couldn't say how hard he resisted, with Jean acting weird and the wedding looming maybe he did need a break), Gambit corralled him out of the Mansion and sat him down at what he belatedly realized was Logan's drinking place. Logan, typically, scowled when he saw them.

"Thought I'd gotten your emo ass outta here," he growled, "-and why's the boy scout here?"

Gambit smiled winningly. "I be workin' wit' de _cherie. _'Sides de boy scout wound so tight he liable to break a spring."

Logan looked over at Scott with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged. "I need a drink."

Scott proceeded to focus on his drink. He didn't much like alcohol, but he realized it was kindof nice to be out of the mansion with people who knew he was a mutant. He drained his glass and actually smiled when the bartender refilled it.

Logan and Gambit talked about basically nothing, Scott didn't much care as he relaxed with his glass, but finally Logan grimaced and cleared his throat, "So how's Stripes?"

Gambit, for once not glib to Scott's surprise, rubbed his brow. "She startin' t'adjust, _mais _she really upset 'bout de touchin'. She won't hear 'bout any practice."

Scott choked, remembering the last time in what context Gambit had used that word. "Maybe you're the one upset," he muttered. Gambit glared, his eyes glinting a fiery red, giving Scott the always weird feeling he was seeing his own eyes right before the lasers fired.

"Dis ain't 'bout me, One Eye. She ain't touchin' no one-"

"Hasn't been that long," Logan pointed out and Gambit shifted focus.

"Don't give me dat _shite; _she don't need time 'bout dis - she t'inkin' she poison and dat's it. Dat's all 'll ever be."

Gambit blinked and Scott actually had an epiphany. It could've been the alcohol, but as Gambit, Remy, kept talking, kept talking about how she was giving up hope and how he wouldn't let her (or at least that was what penetrated through that thick Cajun sludge Gambit considered normal speech) - Scott realized that maybe Remy saw a bit of himself in Rogue.

Didn't he always write off the Cajun mutant? But Peter considered him a good friend, Logan let him drink with him (as close to friendliness that Scott could imagine), Xavier always spoke respectfully of him, and Rogue, Rogue clearly considered him worth dating and tracking half-way across the country.

The thief, the mercenary, the ladies' man - not serious, respecting no one, only capable of harm - how many had assumed that of him? And who had believed contrary?

Xavier, of course.

Rogue?

He wondered.

And he had to be drunker than he realized - having completely lost track of whatever his companions were talking about - Scott raised his glass, belatedly realizing it was empty. (Later, he would remember this as one of his last semi-coherent memories of the night.) "Remy, y'a good guy."

Remy, for some reason weaving, took his glass away. "An' dat, _mon ami_, means y' had enough."

Logan, or a pig (but what would a pig be doing in a bar - perhaps drinking?)…snorted.


End file.
